


Lady Vail and the Island Trail

by brightephemera



Series: Vail!verse [2]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Deadfire, F/M, Multiple Love Interests, Slow Burn, canon compliant Serafen, complete but it is bugged to look like it's missing a chapter, darn it I'm not making any of 'em villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 77,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23775037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightephemera/pseuds/brightephemera
Summary: Ranger, Watcher, Lady of Caed Nua…Vailond had just gotten comfortable in her castle when fate intervened with yet another god problem that couldn’t be yelled away. So she hits the ocean currents, chasing another god’s crazy plan, perhaps this time to permanently secure a place for herself, her friends, and someone she can finally hold on to. Sequel to Lady Vail's Pack, the story of PoE1.
Relationships: Aloth Corfiser/The Watcher, Serafen/The Watcher
Series: Vail!verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895248
Comments: 24
Kudos: 17





	1. Three Events in Five Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn important things about Berath, Edér, and Vailond. This covers major events in the five-year gap between games.

(during the five-year gap)

Vailond thought that she and the god Berath had parted on good terms after Vailond earned its favor by assassinating an unlicensed immortal. Insult to the god of death and transitions, ended. This, Vailond thought, was a perfectly good basis for a relationship where they never talked to one another again.

But far away, where Vailond had first started this gods-meddling nonsense, Berath had raised its most faithful champion as a death guard, and Lord Raedric, who had turned Gilded Vale’s town square into a hanging tree, was back at his old tricks.

“Really?” said Vailond in the roadside chapel. “Really?”

She called in Edér and the Grieving Mother from Dyrford. She brought her wolf companion, Tyrhos, always. She brought in some of Caed Nua’s guardsmen, people who hailed from the countryside in and around Raedric’s holdings – people who had a reason to care. Raedric had ravaged his country. Under the curse of the Hollowborn he had executed Hollowborn infants, their mothers, and anyone who might rightly or wrongly be believed to know about the curse then failed to deliver the goods. Vailond was pretty sure he had executed a few more people just for good measure. Maybe Berath wanted him on the throne, but so far as Vailond could see he’d screwed up his chance.

More than this was the real reason, the one Vailond didn’t put in words because she didn’t need to. This was Gilded Vale. This was Edér’s old home. And she would fly in the teeth of law, soul and gods to protect what was Edér’s.

Which brought her back here, to the death guard. Vailond had killed the everloving shit out of him once. It was wrong that she had to do it again.

His castle was extensive and dark; the wrought-iron sconces were no longer lit. They didn’t have to be: as Vailond and the others hurried through the castle, she realized that Raedric’s guards and retainers were dead, too. In a way it was nice to know that nobody with a living brain would even work for the guy.

Vailond’s guards weren’t stealthy, not like her, but that was all right. They could trail. Edér was still lighter of foot than you might think, and Mother could steal from shadow to shadow as effectively as Vailond.

Cheater. She could just cipher away the attention of anyone who noticed her.

Vailond was glad Mother had chosen to come. It was a near thing. When it came down to it, Mother had watched Vailond punish her greatest enemy with the truth: future lifetimes knowing he had failed. Vailond knew damn well that Mother did not see it that way. Mother would soothe away the edges, grant him an end, eat away at the tragedy of the Hollowborn until those around her had forgotten it ever happened.

Thaos deserved the bite of objective truth. Mother didn’t think of it that way. And yet, when called, she came, quiet in a pleated black dress, otherworldly with her long graying hair, shielded behind a glamor of an old woman to casual observers. Vailond didn’t want to punish anyone here with memories. It was different this time. Raedric? Vailond would happily batter him into oblivion with a cipher to seal the deal.

Edér was the navigator here. In the low light from the window slits his chain coif looked sinister compared to the knowledge of his golden hair. He had a better sense for things indoors than Vailond did. Even after all this time…Vailond had had half of Caed Nua’s keep rebuilt to make it harder to get lost. Sadly she couldn’t make all other castle owners fall in line. Here, she was lost, except that Edér signaled at the next door.

She signed for silence. The Grieving Mother nodded and waved. For a second something pressed on Vailond’s throat and she felt, with a stab of panic, that she couldn’t speak if she wanted to. Mother really could use some work on the consent front. Still, it did its job. The party was silent as she slowly edged around the corner. This doorway let out onto the throne room where Raedric the Death Guard, Lord of Gilded Vale, was supposed to keep court.

Vailond nodded at Tyrhos. He would follow her first crossbow shot with all his muscle and teeth. She touched her throat and felt Grieving Mother release the block on her voice.

She swung into the doorway, counting her opponents – eight in this broken court. “Second verse,” she yelled, and fired at Raedric.

“Same as the first,” she yelled, and reloaded, walking. Tyrhos streaked beside her to hurl himself at a skeleton holding a grimoire. The hunt was at its end, and there remained only the kill.

*

Guard engaged guard, archer engaged mage. Raedric, taller even than Edér and broad in spiky gunmetal armor, raised his greatsword and made directly for Vailond. So…he remembered, then. The battle was brief. Edér battered Raedric from behind, swearing, while Vailond focused on dodging. Vailond’s armor and her nimbleness turned Raedric’s last greatsword swing into merely an agonizingly painful knockdown. Her dagger got the better of his calf, though, and Mother’s knife did the rest. She whispered as she struck, as though attuned to the soul in its husk.

Edér dropped his sword and offered Vailond a hand up. “‘f I didn’t know better, I’d think Raedric has it in for you specifically.”

Vailond shrugged and regretted it. “Well, we kind of do for him, too.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled, but his eyes were worried.

Vailond fluttered a hand. “I’m fine. But if Berath does this again I’m leaving the countryside for good.”

“You’ve done more’n you had to,” he said. “I guess I could rally the locals, if it came to it.” Edér nudged the rattling plate armor. “We did Berath a good turn back in Teir Evron. What made it turn around and do this?”

“Hell if I know.” Vailond looked up. “You have to stop biting me at some point.” Then she shrugged. “Come on, guys. Dinner’s on me.”

She could say that. She was the Lady of Caed Nua.

*

As lady of Caed Nua, Vailond had a stupid amount of responsibility. Staff, visitors, payroll, guards, petitioners, swindlers…she started out by trying to discourage all of them and slowly, reluctantly started letting the top of the list through. She kept the wolf Tyrhos at her side and her crossbow on a stand, and she thought that did keep back the minor idiots. On occasion the more horrific businessmen got a crossbow bolt to the gut and a dismissal. Kith trafficking was the worst offense in Vailond’s book, but she wasn’t above punishing other offenses that got on her nerves.

Sometimes she had visitors. Not from her old life in Aedyr; she’d had no one but Tyrhos there. But people who liked that she was an elf or an Aedyran or a ranger or a Watcher. Sometimes, more importantly, it was people she’d faced down hell with.

Like Edér. Tall, blond, neat-bearded, smiling, gentle Edér.

For a year, they visited often and readily; for a year they always seemed to have something in the way; for a year they made it formal, official, genuine calendar objects, something to keep drift from setting in.

And one day, when she got up the nerve, she invited just because she wanted him.

If Vailond were different, she would have ordered the choicest meats and the richest wines. As it was, she shot a deer herself and oversaw its roasting, then selected wines light and sweet, the kind you could go all evening drinking. It was more comfortable that way.

Edér was coming to visit, and no expense was too much.

She waited on the walls, watching the eastern road, until she spotted him and his easy swinging gait. She sprinted downstairs and ordered the gate opened, then smoothed down her hair and tugged the back of her tunic to thin her waist. It was about the only feminine charm she had.

Edér smiled widely as he came within talking range. She saw he hadn’t brought his scale mail. Just a leather jerkin and blue jacket. It was like he was letting her see his civilian life. “Do they just install you here every minute I’m not around?”

“It was this or watch the kitchen rats outsmart our cat again. This was less depressing.”

Edér laughed as he stooped for a quick hug. “Your hair's getting longer. Looks nice.”

Her world was a firework. “Thanks.”

Just as easily he let her go. “Where’s your friend?”

He didn’t mean it harshly. Vailond signaled and Tyrhos trotted out and raised his chin for scratching. Edér cheerfully obliged.

Edér was the mayor of Dyrford, having stopped the previous mayor’s Skaen cult. That kind of thing happened to Edér. In a way, it was Vailond’s favorite stretch of memory, that time when that kind of thing happened to him near her.

They talked about times past, about misadventures with Pallegina, cultural divides with Aloth. They talked about the rebuilt mill in Dyrford and the morale of the guardsmen of Caed Nua. He laughed easily and spoke highly of the delicacies Vailond had had her best cooks work two days straight on.

At no point did she see a good time to say it. The night drew onward, Tyrhos left Edér’s ready hand to lie down by the fire, and Vailond finally realized she could get nothing if she didn’t take it.

“Edér,” she said in a low even voice. “You don’t have to go back tonight.”

He shrugged. “The roads aren’t bad. You’ve seen to that.”

Yes. So that she could reach him without fear, and he could reach her. Did he not see that? “That’s not what I meant.”

“I also don’t mind walking at night. It’s nice out.”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to…ugh. I don’t know how to say this.”

He smiled, easygoing. “Out loud, in a language I speak?”

“There, you made the hardest decisions for me.” She stretched a smile over her mass of bare nerves. “Edér, I want you to stay. With me. Didn’t you ever think about it?”

“It’s hard to be a mayor from this far outside town. I…” Then it hit him. And, more than anything in the world, she wanted him to not look sick at the thought.

But he did.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, I’m real fond of you, case that wasn’t clear. But, in terms of stronger feelings…it isn’t you. Not your fault. You’re a remarkable woman, I just…haven’t thought that way in a long time. Maybe it’s mixed up with—”

“Don't.”

They looked at one another.

She felt herself crumbling. “What was I supposed to—”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to make you think that. To be honest, I thought you and Aloth—”

“Aloth was never anything!” Sometimes one had to believe something to get by. “He used me until the danger was past and then left. It was never about him.” She hugged herself. “Fine. I understand. I can get you a room for the night,” she said. “I won’t try to talk to you.”

He looked even sicker. “Tell me I’m not losing this.”

“I just need time,” she spoke over the cliff. “I’ll stop. I promise I’ll stop.” Somehow.

“I…think I’d better hit the road tonight,” he said slowly.

“It’ll be safe. I made it safe.” Just one of the million things she’d done for him, that he didn’t want to hear about. “Goodbye.”

He stiffened. “You don’t mean that?”

She broke. “Goodnight,” she said, because that was the closest thing to compromise she could manage.

He walked for the door and stopped under its frame, and looked back. “You’re my best friend,” he said quietly.

“I’ll stop. I need time.”

“You know there was a time I thought you were emotionless?” He bowed his head. “Goodnight. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

Vailond stalked down a different passage, and downstairs to the kitchen. She took a cleaver, gathered her coppery hair to the nape of her neck, and slashed it short. There wasn’t any point anymore.

*

Two years later, Edér smoked thoughtfully as he watched the ship come into dock. It wasn’t big, but he’d been promised speed. And in the errand he had, speed was everything.

He had a guess where to go to. It was just a guess, but since they’d pulled Vailond from the wreckage of Caed Nua, what else was there but guesswork? If she still wouldn’t wake up when they got to the right island, he didn’t know what he was going to do. She wouldn’t ask him to do even this much: pride, self-denial, call it what you would. Pride, mostly. The fact was, she wouldn’t ask him for anything but he’d sell off an estate and jump into a boat bound for Eora’s own edge if it would save her life. Maybe they’d gotten snarled up in the middle there, but the world was a better place when Vailond DeGauer was in it.

In the shelter behind him Vailond lay barely breathing, her red hair’s tips clinging around her cheekbone. The answers were out there, somewhere on the water. And his friend would seize them with her signature bluntness, just as soon as she woke up. That’s just how it was going to be.

*

PILLARS OF ETERNITY 2: LADY VAIL AND THE ISLAND TRAIL


	2. Boarding, Biting, Crashing, Lighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond is given a divine mission. She wakes up in a strange place and discovers the status of her companion Tyrhos. A pirate ship harasses the Defiant. The Defiant puts in at a strange port, and Vailond meets a priestess of unusual talents.

Berath, the god-construct of the Engwithans, was apparently trying to give Vailond an even worse day than the one where she’d gotten the visions of a Watcher. At least a bîaŵac never asked you for anything.

The god Eothas was walking in the form of a giant statue, carrying with him a chunk of Vailond’s soul he had shorn off while wrecking her castle, Caed Nua. The god Berath wanted to know his plans as he stomped into the Deadfire Archipelago. Vailond was, apparently, the mortal it liked best for such assignments. The death guard thing was presumably not even worth mentioning in the greater scheme of things. So now Vailond was a Herald, whatever that meant. Damned if she would use the title.

She woke up nauseous from her divine consultation, with a long slow misery banging her head and roiling her stomach in steady turn. She reminisced about merely being tortured by uncontrollable recollections of thousands of souls.

She was lying on something soft that seemed to be moving. She didn’t hear Tyrhos anywhere. She did, however, smell something she hadn’t smelled since her disastrous dinner with an old friend. Pipe smoke, one particular type.

She turned her head toward the smell of the pipe. “Edér?”

In the yellow light from a hanging lamp he switched from staring moodily at the door to staring wide-eyed at her. “You’re awake? I can’t believe it! You’re awake!”

“Then why do I feel so shitty?”

He smiled. She would still shoot her way through a mid-sized country to get to that smile. “Well, you are on a boat.”

“What the hell? I was at Caed Nua. Caed Nua is not near boats. —Stop. I know Eothas is in a statue. I know he ruined Caed Nua. Supposedly I barely survived.” Her heart seized. “Tyrhos? Did Tyrhos get out?”

She hated every sliver of a second before he said, terribly seriously, “He did. In a manner of speaking.”

“And what the hell does that mean?”

“That…” Edér clenched his jaw and stared at what seemed like a lot of bad options. “You have to understand, after what happened…he’s been upset.”

“Where is he? Is he all right?”

“He’s belowdecks, in another room. He listens to me. Most of the time.”

“Let me see him.”

“I…can’t.” He seemed to be dragging the words out of a pit.

“Why not?”

“He’ll attack you.”

“What?”

“He…he hasn’t…since Caed Nua. All the way down here, all the way out to sea, all the way chasing Eothas because you got closer to healthy the closer we got…I’m sorry. He just growls at you. And snapped, and almost bit, until we pulled him off of you. The sight of you makes him furious and nobody knows why.”

Vailond bit her lip. Did she not feel like herself? She didn’t. “Because Eothas stole half my soul. Sometimes I think Tyrhos sees souls as well as I do.”

“I’ve done the best I can for him. I’m not you, though. Maybe now that you're awake…”

“Take me to him.”

He stood and made for the door. He was in his old scale armor, well fitted if somewhat the worse for wear. She peeled herself off the bunk feeling damp and filthy and staggered after him.

Down a narrow, smelly hallway, under a swinging tallow lamp, toward another little bedroom. She found a regular ship’s cabin, beds on either side like in the room she had woken up in. There was a pale wooden gate, chest-high, blocking most of the cabin. Because. Because.

Tyrhos, with white sprinkled amongst his gray fur, hurled himself at her face and rebounded off the gate’s bars. His teeth were bare, his ears back, and he scrabbled and jumped again, this time catching his stomach on the nubs of the gate.

“Tyrhos,” she said, at a loss for any but the most basic terms. “Tyrhos. Sh-sh, it’s all right. I’m here. We’re here. Tyrhos. Calm down.”

Tyrhos did not calm down. He scrambled back, struggling hard to disentangle himself, and then took a ragged breath and hurled himself again. This time he cleared the gate.

“Tyrhos!” She reached for his muzzle, ready to pat and soothe.

Tyrhos opened his jaws and closed them on her wrist. The pain was surreal. His teeth split her and she couldn’t think to do anything but watch. This was her friend of sixteen years. This was her partner.

“Down, boy! Leave her be!” Edér was pulling her back, hauling her in a moment of wavering. Tyrhos gathered himself and growled. “Stay there, boy. Vailond’s your friend. You remember her, don’t you? It’s just been weeks, you can’t forget so soon.”

“Tyrhos, please,” she said. The pain in her wrist was stinging her to tears. “Come with me. We’re going to be all right. Just come.”

“Your arm needs looking at,” said Edér as he shoved the wolf back over the gate. Even for a man of his size, it was a struggle. “Come on.”

Vailond staggered to the hallway, and Edér murmured more before he backed off from the gate.

“Let’s get that wrist looked at,” he said soberly. “We don’t have a priest or a sawbones, but the cook has access to a lot of rum.”

“Vailond. Vailond?” The voice came from a third cabin. It had a little niche where the head and shoulders of the unmistakable Steward of Caed Nua statue was mounted. “Thank the gods you’re awake. Someone is boarding us.”

*

Edér directed Vailond to a cabinet where a crossbow was stored. “I did my best to get one like yours,” he said anxiously.

She ran the hand with the bleeding wrist up alongside the mechanism. “I think the pointy stuff comes out here,” she said, and smiled fiercely at him. He smiled back, which gave her the energy to keep from screaming as she settled the crossbow in the crook of her bloodied elbow.

Abovedecks…topside…on the flat stuff where the masts come out…it was night and a storm was blowing fitfully through the sails. The rain was a halfhearted spit, shockingly cold. And there was a ship lashed to Vailond’s.

A man brandished an arquebus on the opposite deck. “Name of Benweth, gentleman of fortune. Remember that when you’re tasting my whip.”

“Whips are limp, as a rule,” yelled Vailond. She was coming to appreciate her rare chances for sass. Since Berath wasn’t here to absorb more.

He snarled. “Enough talk. Sailors, board!”

There were already sailors on Vailond’s deck. Armed with pistols and swords, they seemed happy to defend the ship from a swinging swarm of pirates. Vailond wondered whether she was paying them. Sorry, a Lady of Caed Nua had to think about that kind of thing.

As it turned out, firing a crossbow from the crook of an injured arm on a pitching deck was criminally reckless. Vailond had no other weapon and no other means of getting one. She thought about loosing Tyrhos on this melee, but…Tyrhos might still focus on her. And she was not willing to find out.

Helpless and hating it, she stood still and watched. Benweth the gentleman of fortune was still on his own deck, placing shots with an arquebus. Vailond would have given good…something…to get one clear shot at him while she had two good hands. Instead, she had violent weather, which was apparently enough to turn him away. “Back, boys,” he called, “this storm won’t care which of us she sinks.”

And the pirates started swinging back to their ship, fielding many a slash and bullet from the crew of Vailond’s ship. One man howled and stabbed a retreating pirate in the back. Vailond noted that she should give him a bonus. Sorry, a Lady of Caed Nua had to think about that kind of thing.

In the distance, some blue-green to the east moved against a flash of lightning and merged with the night again.

Vailond didn’t want to cope with the crew just then. Nor a captain, nor much of anything. She headed belowdecks and back to the room with the Steward.

“Are they gone?” said the statue fragment. Her features were intact, blunt, steady. The Steward was always calm.

“They gave up,” said Vailond. “It was hard to tell what’s happening.”

“Are the spirit visions back?”

“Oh, no. Not in a bad way.”

Edér let himself in. “Like old times,” he said, smiling. “Now we’d better get that wrist looked at. Our sawbones went ashore days back to sleep off a fever.”

“Your arm? Let me see,” the Steward said urgently. Vailond obediently showed her wrist. The ensouled statue had seen her through many an emergency before and Vailond dearly hoped it would be many thereafter.

“It’s deep,” Vailond added.

“Animal bites. Horrid,” said the Steward. “We need to find you a physician.”

“Well, if the storm blows anybody on deck I’ll ask ‘em nicely,” said Edér, hurrying to tie a clean rag around Vailond’s wrist. “For now, I think the best we can do is hunker down and wait.”

Vailond let him work. “Who’s feeding Tyrhos?”

“He gets first cut of every sheep we eat on this vessel. Don’t you fret. You might try to sleep.”

“You might grow wings and get us directions to the nearest safe port.”

“Tell you what, you work on yours and I’ll work on mine.” He ducked out. “’Night, Vail.”

“Wait! I didn’t even ask….” Vailond bit her lip. “How you’ve been.”

“He’s much better,” said the Steward. “Since you woke up? It’s night and day. Like his ship’s finally come in.”

“Oh,” said Vailond. “Thank you.”

*

Rise. Crash. Rise. Crash. Shudder. Rise. Crash.

Vailond didn’t realize there had been a specific impact until the splintering of beams roared through the storm. Before she could get to Tyrhos’s room the roar had become a full-body scream. The deck shuddered beneath her feet and part of the ship just fell away.

“Tyrhos!” she yelled. “Tyrhos?” But there was no longer any telling where the rest of the ship had gone.

Vailond waited to feel the ground stabilize. They weren’t at sea any longer, though the waves were still pounding the now-still hulk. Vailond sprinted up the sandy shore and fell to her knees, cradling her wounded wrist to her chest. There were others to her left and right. Vailond vomited and opened her mouth to the rain to clean.

Then she moved.

“You! You okay?” She pushed at the shoulder of the prone sailor. “Hey. You all right?”

He stirred and turned a bearded face, dark in the rain, up toward her. He seemed to have to work to nod.

Vailond looked around. There was a palm tree that seemed clear of the storm surge. “Meet us up there.”

Another, a few yards down. This one did not move. Something wasn’t right about its outline on the sand. Head injury, Vailond realized, and moved on.

It was grim work, but Vailond gathered all she could, Edér among them. Then she went to the rally tree and fell over.

She dreamed of her own life, her own past. Her own home, her own bed. Something was on her face, an ooze like back in Eothas’s temple, and it sucked her skin dry, dry…

It was hot and her face was salty. She sat up. She was on a beach. A shipwreck had dragged itself down a few hundred paces, shedding wood as it went. And around her, four ragged people were sorting through a pile of wreckage, plucking out intact bags and boxes.

“Tyrhos,” she creaked. “Tyrhos?”

One of the laborers looked over. “Your hellbeast, m’lady? He leaped clear and gained the forest. Safer for us all.”

Vailond sat up and hugged her knees. “Oh,” she said.

A shipwreck. Because Caed Nua was gone. And they were chasing Eothas. There was Berath to think of, and Tyrhos gone feral, and….

“You’re up.” Edér knelt at her side and smiled his wry smile. “You spend a lot of time unconscious.”

“Trying not to,” she snapped. She waved her punctured wrist and felt the pain like a ribbon tied around. “This thing’s going to get infected if I don’t find some fresh water.”

“Understood,” he said. “All we’re missing now is a few cultists, but don’t worry, I’ll bash ‘em if I see ‘em.” Then he was up and away.

“If you don’t mind your fruit bruised,” said a gap-toothed balding man, “we’ve a crate of it here. Keep your strength up.”

Vailond wasn’t sure what she had been eating or how much of it, but food sounded like paradise. The gathered with the others around the broken crate. There was something like an apple but softer with bigger seeds and Vailond ate it until she felt sick. She lowered herself to the sand and looked around.

The woman beside her was adjusting worn ropes around two board fragments on her leg. “Hi,” said Vailond. “Your name?”

“Irrena, milady.” The woman finished pulling and frowned critically at her work. “And you’re mystery Vailond.”

“Where’s the captain? _Who’s_ the captain?”

“Ellis, m’lady? She…she’s, ah, over there.” The woman pointed to the crumpled heap of cloth.

“I see,” said Vailond.

“She deserved better. Statue lady says you’re in charge as soon as you’re awake,” said an old man. “Vailond DeGauer, Lady of Caed Nua, eh? It’s a mouthful, to be sure.”

Watcher, too. Vailond had gotten complicated. “Captain,” she said. “Well, we’re still bound to find Eothas.”

“And do what with him,” said the old man, “ask him nicely not to kick us onto the next rocks?”

“I doubt he will,” said Vailond. The god had ripped himself out of her territory, out of her soul. He owed her more than that. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, tell you what. You get the _Defiant_ afloat again, and I’ll crew it for you. Eld Engrim, yours truly.”

“Ladies, gentlemen,” announced Edér, “there’s a freshwater stream ten minutes back that way.” He hefted a pair of buckets. “Take this one.” He set one down amid the scavengers.

Then he came to Vailond’s side and set down the other one. He flipped a shallow ladle out of his pocket. “For you, Vail.”

“I’m not thirsty. My arm hurts.”

“A little clean water may help. Here, let me.” The rag tied around Vailond’s wrist was crusty and stiff. Edér slowly crackled it down to reveal the crushed red marks of Tyrhos’s teeth. He looked at the marks. He looked at Vailond. He sighed. He smiled. “Sometimes I think you like me because I’m the only thing in your life that isn’t trying to break you.”

“That does help.” She tipped the bucket of fresh water onto the rag and rinsed until it went limp, then rinsed off her tender wrist and led Edér re-tie the bandage. Her arm didn’t hurt when he touched it. “Edér, I was a jerk to you and then I smashed everything and quit. Why are you helping me?”

He smiled gently. “Somebody had to. Reckon I was qualified.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to be.”

She fell back. “Friends?” she said thickly.

“Count on it. And I reckon Tyrhos’ll be back soon, too. You’ll see. You’re never really alone.”

As long as it wasn’t just her and gods. As long as it wasn’t that.

*

This island, whatever it was supposed to be, had not fared well in the storm that broke the _Defiant_. Pathways were rutted in mud, trees turned sideways or pulled from the ground entirely. When Vailond and Edér crested the ridge over the beach town they saw buildings’ paint scoured and stripped, road mires littered with things that had gotten stuck in passage.

Edér had explained it: what little remained of Caed Nua’s riches had been spent getting the ship and crew to take Vailond to the Deadfire Archipelago and set her on Eothas’s trail. She had nothing left to bargain with, unless a Watcher doing parlor tricks could pay the bills. Edér laughed, but he didn’t suggest better ideas.

A bleary-looking loiterer gave them the name of the little town: Port Maje. It had one building worth the term, a Vailian governor’s outpost. Otherwise the town had some aumaua Huana stormspeakers who claimed to have shielded Maje from the worst of the storm, and a little wagon’s circle of people who didn’t look native.

Dawnstars. Followers of Gaun, the harvester aspect of Eothas. With Eothas stomping around in person, it seemed natural for Dawnstars to follow to the islands he had touched.

This was explained to Vailond by a young woman who carried a lantern that pierced Vailond’s Watcher senses like a spike to the temples. Vailond was glad to have the ability to turn that awareness off most of the time. Xoti expressed her enthusiasm for following in Eothas’s footsteps, with Vailond. She tapped her giant Eothasian badge as she spoke. The woman wore it openly: she had clearly never been in the Dyrwood.

“Do you know how to sail?” said Vailond.

Xoti faltered. “You mean on a boat?”

“Yes. On a boat. In the water.”

“I learned some on my way here. I won’t be any trouble, you’ll see.” Xoti looked around, pushing curly black hair behind her ears. Then she looked Vailond over and started. “You’re wounded! Let me have a look at it.”

Well…a follower of Eothas might know a thing or two about mending. Vailond let her slide the dirty rag off her wrist. “Nasty,” said Xoti, “was that one of the wild animals you faced getting here?”

“Yes,” lied Vailond.

“Here you go.” She fell into a deep lilting voice, a chant, sort of, and Vailond felt the warmth as her torn flesh came back together. Funny, her old friend Durance had always made healing rituals feel terrifying. Xoti came out of it glowing and smiling.

Xoti nodded, dark eyes shining. “I won’t be any trouble at all.”

Handing over the soul angle of all this did sound really, really appealing. Vailond wasn’t sure how Xoti’s lantern worked, but a soul harvested was a soul not troubling Vailond’s perception of the living world, so that was something. And, though Tyrhos was still breaking her heart, he was no longer breaking her shooting arm. That was good.

Vailond smiled at Xoti. Xoti smiled at Edér. Edér got very interested in the far side of the wagon circle. Well, Vailond had had worse starts. “Come on, then. We need a ship.”

*

“Anything you can tell us about the governor here?” Edér had a curious habit of looking three feet to Xoti’s left. It meant he missed the looks she was giving him.

“Oh, he doesn’t want the Dawnstars here,” she burbled. “Seems to think religious types will only cause trouble, especially when those religious types’ god just walked through town.”

“Reasonable,” said Vailond.

“Oh, no! Gaun won’t pass this way again.”

Vailond wondered whether Xoti could feel the snap-to of attention. “How do you know that?” she said.

“I dream. Nightmares, mostly. But where Gaun is going…I know he won’t turn away.”

“You see the future,” Vailond said sharply. “You know I’ve dreamed every night for five years and I’ve never seen a jot about the future.”

“Nightmares,” said Xoti. “Want to trade?”

“You might be surprised.” Vailond shook her head, hard. “But we can’t.” Nothing so convenient, and, well, Xoti didn’t look old enough to take on a Watcher’s vision anyway. There was a slight strength advantage in being eighty-three and an elf.

Governor Clario summoned them by way of a tired-looking woman who manifestly wasn’t getting paid enough. That type was obvious. Vailond tried to pay them more. Still, in this case, Vailond and the Governor talked. She said she was chasing Eothas, because it was true, and it was Watcher business, because fuck Berath. Once Clario was done reading off his informant’s description of the Defiant’s destruction, he offered a deal. He and the local Huana could return the Defiant to the waves…for a sum of gold even the Lady of Caed Nua boggled at.

“Or,” he said, “you can help me. Someone so useful to House Doemenel may have valuable talents.”

“I shoot things,” said Vailond. “And keep the castle staff from revolting."

"And catch an escaped chicken inside of fifteen seconds from a standing start," Edér volunteered. 

Vailond appreciated the sentiment if not the timing. "What do you want?”

“It is perhaps a dangerous journey here, though you would not fear it….”


	3. The Trampled Ruins; Seaworthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond, Edér, and Xoti investigate some ruins in Eothas' wake. In exchange, they get help from the Vailians and Huana to return the Defiant to service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lines in italics are drawn directly from game.

When Governor Clario asked Vailond to earn the resources to repair her ship by looking in on the Engwithan dig site Vailond spent about ten seconds trying to push through the urge to cry.

“Captain? Did you hear me?”

“You people were doing research on Engwithan ruins?”

“The luminous adra endemic to them, actually. It is a fascinating area of research.”

“Where are the Glanfathans when you need them?” muttered Vailond. Edér snorted. “Is there a machine? Did they uncover a machine.”

“Not according to the reports. Do you have some expertise on the subject? Your insights as a Watcher, well, we would be most appreciative.”

“If there’s an Engwithan machine I am destroying it and burying the site,” said Vailond. “Sorry if that interferes with your plans.”

Clario spiked one eyebrow. “I lack the manpower to stop you. But I pray you consider this an errand of mercy. Eothas passed that way, and we have had no communication since.”

“It’s all right,” murmured Edér. “Nobody’s been seeing Hollowborn here.”

“If he’s powered by those things, we might be able to stop him in his tracks.”

“Then you will go?” said Clario. “Oderisi and his team, his notes…I would happily assist you in exchange for these assurances.”

There was nothing else to say. Vailond’s crew took some shelter in the Kraken’s Eye with all the booze Vailond could afford. She took Edér and Xoti and set out cross-country to the Engwithan dig site.

She wondered whether she could use it to stab Berath. If Berath was an Engwithan construct…well, it deserved what it got.

*

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me,” said Vailond.

“I barely even know kidding me,” Edér deadpanned. Xoti giggled. “Why, who’s asking?”

They were standing on the overgrown edge of a huge kith-dug circle in the ground. Below them the surface stepped in rings down to a muddy center that held a big metal beehive-type thing and nothing else.

This would be fine, if it weren’t for the footprint that had ripped through three levels to make a puddle-dimpled imprint on the ground level.

Vailond was at a loss for any kind of reaction to the comical scale. “ _That_ was _Eothas_?”

“In the flesh. Adra. You know.”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” said Xoti.

“That thing stomped out Caed Nua?” said Vailond.

“Well, most of the destruction was him climbing to the surface to begin with,” said Edér. “Remember his left kneecap? Nasty times, that.”

And worse times if Eothas tore all that to the surface. “How many did he get at Caed Nua, Edér? Any of the old guard?”

“Mostly the people you hired who stayed on.”

“Kana?”

“He was well on his way home.”

“Mother?”

“She was in Dyrford.”

“Aloth?” Gods, if her letter had summoned him back only to get crushed by…. “Aloth?”

“No, I don’t know where he was. He never came back to Caed Nua that I know of.” Oh. Good. Maybe he’d never gotten that letter, or maybe he got it and didn’t care. Better than knowing she’d gotten him killed. They’d parted on bitter terms, but she would rather lose the remnants of their relationship than know she’d been responsible for his death. “There were some others. Marshal Forwyn.” Damn, Vailond had known him well. Extremely well. Edér went on listing names and Vailond hugged herself. She had built Caed Nua to be a shelter, not some god’s incomprehensible statement.

“Vailond?” It was Xoti. “I don’t want to interrupt, but there’s some panthers there hoping the day’s killing ain’t done.”

Vailond shook herself. “Hm.” Maybe there were people in that cage down there.

The path was treacherous. Wild animals had already set their territory over the ruined hollow. Vailond kept an eye on the metal cage. There was definitely something going on there.

“Is someone in there?” yelled Vailond.

“Is someone out there?” yelled someone inside. Neither party sounded that eager to actually find out, but Vailond stepped free of the door. “You can come out, the animals are gone.”

Vailond had seen more than she ever wanted to know about animancers, and she wished that the beaten-looking humans and aumaua could be said to be better than that. They came out in a cluster.

“Is that adra statue gone?” said one woman.

“To the north, judging by the footprints,” said Vailond.

“He just stepped, and people burned to ash. Their souls must have been drained.”

“I see. Are you here for the Vailian luminous adra research?”

“Yes,” a man said brightly, “and we’ve been making—”

“We survived,” said the woman. “We are not fighters. We cannot hold off another onslaught either of wandering gods or of wild animals.”

“The path here was quiet. Go. I have to look for survivors.”

The woman frowned. “At least take Engferth. His spells should be of some use if you have to deal with any more surprises here.”

“We’re in good shape with three,” said Vailond. “I wouldn’t want to take away someone who can defend you.”

The group was parting. Vailond heard Edér suck in a short breath. “That looks just like…” he shut up again.

Aloth was significantly taller than Vailond, but still shorter than the other kith who once they were out of the way didn’t matter in the slightest. “I want him,” she said loudly. “I’ll take him.”

He sketched a smile. “It would be my honor,” he said in that voice, the voice that used to soothe her to sleep, that had delivered her the best and the worst news in her hardest times. He was here, and he didn’t hate her.

Edér cleared his throat. “Well, I guess that’s settled,” he said loudly. “Should we, uh, get going, Vail?”

“Yes.” Vailond caught herself. She probably looked like an idiot in front of Edér just then. “Come on, we need to see where this goes.”

The dig was not centered on an Engwithan machine. Its only product was a deposit of luminous adra, not fully dug up. Vailond had never seen anything quite like it.

It…responded…to her. The glow inside seemed to press against the surface when she touched it. She leaned in.

It clicked. She fell into a gray mist, dark, restless. On its other side, if ‘side’ meant anything, was a darkness slightly troubled by green and purple and a terrible, terrible cold. If this was the Beyond it was in Rymrgand’s icy domain.

But there was light, too. Golden strings, rooted in the pillar under her fingertips. They tangled her, souls, light, a rope, snapping through a place that was only marked by the pillar’s glow behind and the streak of gold ahead.

Click. Eothas was there. The golden rope spread up his back, feeding him energy. Parts of her. Parts of thousands. Parts trapped by adra. Far, far ahead, she saw another pillar, bigger than the first. But Eothas turned back.

“ _It takes great bravery to venture through the In-Between, even for a Watcher. You do not need to follow me, for their sake or your own. Something beautiful is coming, something that will save us all_.”

“My soul. Free me and I’ll help you.” Anything to get off Berath’s payroll. Wouldn’t Edér be thrilled?

“ _I still have need of it, but do not be afraid. Dawn will come for us all in time.”_

“Xoti! Xoti wants answers from you! Don’t you know her, or Edér?”

Eothas tugged the golden rope from his back. It went black as though instantly drained. He walked on alone, toward the beacon of the great adra pillar. He had his guidance.

She fell, up or sideways. Her knees hit hard before she understood where the ground was, and what the smaller adra pillar before her was.

Aloth looked green. “Are you all right?”

Vailond coughed. Gravity still felt wrong. “What would I be without losing consciousness all the time?”

Edér laughed. “World’s most reliable party trick.”

“We need to find Oderisi and get out of here.”

“Oderisi found,” Aloth said quietly. He pointed at an ash-colored human figure captured in a moment of pain. Eothas tended to leave those behind him. “Look, there’s a lever. His notes may be nearby.”

The lever opened a tiny cabinet built into the wooden joists of the tunnel chamber. Aloth took the bundle of papers and examined them.

He frowned at the dense diagrams. “Treatments for reducing luminous adra powder. Purely mechanical work, but I suppose it would save the casual digger several months’ experimentation.”

“Should the Vailians have it?”

Aloth eyed her sharply. “You’ve changed,” he said, and he wasn’t talking about the papers.

“Does that mean I’m less stupid?”

“No. I don’t know what it means. Nevertheless. Should the Vailians have this technology? Them as well as any, I suppose.”

“If it’s harmless and it buys us the _Defiant_ ….” Edér shrugged.

“The Vailians haven’t been happy with the Dawnstars, but they’re no monsters,” said Xoti. “I think we’re fine.”

“If we are to return to Port Maje,” said Aloth, “I would just as soon leave here now and camp under an open sky.”

“You’ve changed,” murmured Vailond, grinning in spite of herself, and she wasn’t talking about the logistics.

He smiled. “You weren’t in that cage for thirty-six hours.”

*

They camped under the stars, just like old times. Xoti primly refused to use her eerie lantern to light the fire. Vailond did it the old-fashioned way. The four of them pulled up stones or thick branches and sat, facing like compass directions.

“Aloth,” said Vailond. “How did you get here?”

He looked nervous. “Well, I have been tracking progressively more sophisticated Leaden Key fronts and the truths behind them. There is someone in a particularly tricky group who worked here in the dig site until Eothas came through. We were…unable to save him, so my search for leads must go elsewhere.”

“Oh,” said Vailond. Well, that made sense.

“However….”

“Yes?”

“I thought about contacting you. Your insight might have…but I didn’t want to impose.”

“I sent people looking for news of you.”

“I left several with lingering confusion bombs in an alley in Ou Liet, I fear. They failed to mention you.”

“And the letters?”

He looked uncomfortable, and for the first time he seemed to be reaching deep. “I was on the move. And…it was easier for me to reconcile my memory by believing you were happier without me.”

Vailond brought up a hand as if to touch him, but she let it fall. Had he gotten the important letter? Either fate spoke in denying it, or he chose not to speak in receiving it. “You know that's not true.”

Edér eyed the treetops and scratched his beard.

Aloth didn’t blink. “You must believe that I did what you wanted. I've found my purpose.”

“I'm glad.”

“And you?”

“Eothas ripped my soul in half. I need to get the part he took. Berath personally wants me to look into it.”

He smiled. “Never a small goal for you.” His look turned searching. “You…look the same, to me.”

She touched the healed points of her latest injuries. “Hm.”

“Let me come with you. If you want the support.”

“Didn’t I cost you enough the first time? And you, you do have your purpose.”

“If we can't stop one god, keeping animancy alive against the Leaden Key's machinations will scarcely matter. Let me…if you want me.”

“I’m still finding big words. I haven’t had anybody to help.”

He smiled in a way better than a dozen dictionaries. “I can do something about that.”

“You two mirror each other,” Xoti said softly. “That’s a rare thing.”

Vailond looked at Aloth despite herself. Aloth looked back, wide-eyed.

“Like that,” said Edér. He was grinning for some reason.

Aloth steered the conversation away, and in time everyone rolled into their own blankets. Vailond stayed awake until she heard the howling in the distance. Maybe. Maybe Tyrhos was all right out there. Maybe, tonight, everyone was all right.

*

Aloth lent his diplomacy as Vailond gave the Governor his animancer’s notes and walked with his people to the beach where they would restore the _Defiant_. Aumaua stormshapers and laborers had appeared from somewhere, part of a political negotiation. Aloth wove black clouds over the workmen to shade them on their way.

And he tried not to notice Edér.

Vailond was always with him. The man hardly got a chance to piss without her hanging next to his arm, laughing at his jokes. Xoti played the part near his other arm. And Edér, who wasn’t a fool, parried their most obvious advances and still couldn’t resist making them laugh.

Aloth had always known Vailond wanted Edér. She had since before Aloth even joined her. He might be the only person left who had watched her fall in love. It just seemed unfair, that they should have come halfway across a world, through darkness, death, the wrath of gods, the ravages of five years, and she still hung on him.

It made him think. Too late, he rehearsed for his reunion with Vailond.

He would say this: “I am not just available to you whenever you choose to acknowledge me.”

Her self-assurance would crack. “I know.”

“You can't simply assume I will leap to your command.”

“I know.” It would be her humble tone.

“I have earned this life. My life. Born from my mistakes, not your needs.”

She would set her scarred hands on his arms, her small intimacy, questioning now. “I know,” she would say. “And I understand. Come with me.”

“I am not your pawn.”

“My friend?” she would say.

He had painted her cornflower blue eyes from memory for so long…now the model was here. And giving him a chance. He had not known heart's ease could so quickly recover.

“My friend,” he said aloud. “Let me come with you.”

Vailond looked up from her knife-honing and smiled. “Of course.”

*

The beach strand grandly named Vilario’s Rest was crawling with workers, both aumaua and human. Xoti stayed out of the way. Aloth literally cast shade. Vailond consulted with Edér, who had become alongside a sailor from Port Maje a kind of foreman, and then headed back toward Xoti.

And stopped, halfway there. She angled herself to face nothing, and she seemed to mouth something. Xoti trotted up. “Vailond,” she said, “who are you talking to?”

Vailond looked startled. “A spirit,” she said. “The old captain of this ship. She was killed when it went aground.”

“A soul, right here?”

“About three feet to your right, actually.”

“Can I move it on?”

“To…where?”

Xoti waved her spirit lamp. “I harvest souls, remember?”

“Do they just stay in your lamp?”

“Until I understand what it’ll take to move them on, yes.”

“Isn’t that a big ‘until’?”

“Please. Would you?”

Vailond murmured a question at thin air and seemed to wait for a response. “All right, do it.”

Xoti spoke the old chant and whirled the old lamp, and she thought it grew a tiny bit heavier.

“Oh, a Watcher’s going to make this so much easier,” she gushed. “You’ll need to tell me when you see any more I can guide.”

“Ladies.” Vailond spun. Xoti smiled. Edér was there, looking red in the sun. “We could use an extra couple of pairs of hands for the fine work. Xoti, can you, uh, put the lamp down somewhere?”

Xoti hugged its handle. “Tell me where I’m working first.”

They walked together. Edér looked down at Vailond. “I wouldn’t bother you, but you’re stronger’n half the men on this crew.”

Xoti didn’t see Vailond’s face, but there was clearly a smile in “Point me.”

They were real close and Vailond was a woman. Xoti would have to think about that one. But the fact that Vailond had helped with the soul, and the fact that she’d given serious consideration to what it meant to help with the soul…well, Xoti was on the right track. She was sure of it now.

She hung her lamp safely from a shrub and set to work. None of the Dawnstars worked like Xoti when there was a community thing to do.

*

Vailond was good and tired when she excused herself from the work crew. She could do that: one of the perks of being the ship’s owner. She took a yoke from the laborers’ supplies and carried two full buckets of fresh water from the stream. One she brought to the laborers. The other she carried to Aloth, to set at his side under the thatch of palm trees.

He was staring at the _Defiant_ , muttering. It was his magic that held a black cloud over the ship, blocking the worst of the sun from the crew’s backs. He’d been at it since dawn.

She scooped a cup of clean water and offered it to him. He sipped once, muttered, then dropped what he was doing, turned to her, and drank the cup dry in one go.

“Thank you,” he said. People were starting to yell from the ship. “Ah, but there is no time to slow.”

“You’re all alone doing this. Are you not completely wiped out?”

Aloth gestured and murmured a few words. A new cloud formed over the ship – thinner, grayer, but unmistakable. “I would do no less, Vail.”

“You can talk and do that?”

“Sometimes. I learned…” he seemed to turn red, then pale again. “Just before we parted. The Celestial Sapling. Do you remember? You couldn’t sleep. I told you a story and gave you the lights and discovered I could do both at once.”

“I remember,” she said nervously. “That was a very long time ago. I’m sure we’ve both learned things since then.”

“I know,” he said neutrally.

She didn’t tell him it had helped. It was enough that he had learned a useful skill. It happened to manifest near her, a long time ago. It was one last way she had been handy for the former Leaden Key operative.

But he wasn’t that operative anymore, and there was only so long she was willing to carry a grudge in the face of new behavior. “Is there anything I can do?”

He was straining his eyes toward the ship. “There is, actually. If you would look in my satchel for the second grimoire. Take it out, and find the page that has this sigil.” He pointed at the book open in his lap. “I will at some point exhaust the offerings of this grimoire; the second one should see me through the day.”

“Nobody asked you to do this.”

“Nobody had to. It needed doing.”

And that was the attitude that had seen her alive through their last misadventure. “Aloth?”

“Yes?”

“I missed you.”

He smiled. He turned his head toward her. “And I you.”

They started yelling from the ship again. Aloth and Vailond jumped back to their respective grimoires, and when Vailond had found the proper place she left it open and shot Aloth a grin before returning to the shaded press of workers.

*

The workers stuffed the common room of the Kraken’s Eye in Port Maje. Rum Dumb Riggere stretched, revealing rough skin through the tears in his shirt. “This has got to be the cushiest shipbuilding I ever did,” he announced. “Shade and a lovely woman bringing the water.”

Edér grinned, watching for Vailond’s response. Xoti was busy easing a blister off her palm. Aloth was perfectly ready to hand the attention to Vailond.

Vailond smiled. “A toast to Aloth for single-handedly holding off the sun the last two days.”

There were Huana, there were Vailians, there were the survivors of the _Defiant_ ’s crash and a few new hires, such as Riggere. They stuffed the common room of the Kraken’s Eye. Vailond would have loved to be in her room alone, but she’d learned that a certain amount of public mindedness helped one keep friends. And, though her inner hatred of rank rankled, hirelings.

They cheered together for Aloth’s magic. Aloth was red to the tips of his ears. Vailond caught his eye and toasted before she drank. His brow untensed a little bit when he toasted in turn.

He picked over his dinner and left early. Vailond slipped out of a loud conversation about fermented palm oil and rushed to the stair.

Aloth’s pale eyes were getting dark rims. Still, he summoned a smile for her. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to thank you,” she said. “I owe you more than I can currently afford.”

He studied her face as his smile faded. “I’m not keeping score.”

“All right. Sleep well.”

“Vail, has it been…like it was, for you? Is sleeping still difficult?”

“No. I sleep through the night and it isn’t…what it was.”

“I’m glad,” and he sounded like he meant it. “Then I can say ‘sleep well’ without fear of irony.”

*

Before anything was committed, the anchor was dropped from the _Defiant’s_ bow. The ship could swing around that point but wouldn’t disappear to sea.

“No cloud,” ordered Retaua, the watershaper leader. “Sunny skies for casting off.”

Two huge flat chunks of wood were pushed up on either side of the _Defiant_ , ready to ease the ship down. Men and women took any of a dozen ropes secured to the ship’s sides. Edér stood at the ship’s stern, and Rum Dumb Riggere, sober, took the helm. And at Retaua’s signal the rope folk stepped back into the rising sea, and pulled the _Defiant_ with it.

Everyone let go and swam with the final watershaped swell, and the _Defiant_ floated free, borne slowly toward the anchor’s point. A yell went up.

Vailond knew it was a matter of favors exchanged, but she disliked leaving them with nothing. That morning she had ventured to the forest and captured two adult deer. She had left them on halters in the shade near the beach, and as soon as the labor was done people were out with knives to carve the feast. This was something Vailond could understand. She shook hands to distribute the friendship of the _Defiant_. Someday, if she got as important as she’d been in Caed Nua, that would be good for something. She shook hands and bowed and all that. She ate the meat and the bread that had showed up from somewhere. Then a beaming Eld Engrim climbed into the _Defiant_ and lowered a rope-and-board seat for her.

There was a regular rope beside it. Vailond assaulted that, made it to the deck, and beamed right back at Engrim. Captain? Yes. Delicate?

Never.

*

“Do you feel it?”

Edér had stayed at Vailond’s side while she explored the deck. Now she was climbing to the bow. “Hm?” she said.

“Just a feeling,” he said. “Like this is taking us places.”

“That’s on account of all the water,” she said seriously. “It moves on it, you know.”

“A real scientific explanation,” Edér said, equally seriously. “I’m glad you thought of it.”

“Well, I am the Captain.”

They looked at each other.

He laughed louder, but only barely. “You and me, we’re going to be okay.”


	4. The Guidance and the Guide; Deadlight Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond settles in on her boat, and immediately finds herself settling someone else in on her boat. He critiques the vessel, plays cards, and guides Vailond's party through Fort Deadlight, where two purposes are mentioned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics indicate lines drawn directly from game.

Eld Engrim explained things like Vailond was a child, which did mean she got to ask stupid questions. There was so much she needed to know.

“Here’s the chart room, Cap’n. Here’s a chart for Neketaka Bay.”

“Neketaka. I’ve heard of it. There’s a queen there.”

“And queens may have answers about Eothas’s patterns,” said Irrena. “Wise choice on Edér’s part.”

“He knows what he’s about.” Among other things he had gotten her close enough to Eothas to revive.

The table had a glass surface. Vailond could see scraps of yellowed paper angled beneath it. On top was a big, white, kinda textured sheet. It was covered in lines and markers. Here was the shoreline, she realized, and there the safe routes into harbor, and in a random sprinkle, rocks large enough to care about. It was like a tiny detail of a normal map blown up to a square yard, like someone had inspected every inch. It was amazing.

“What are all the numbers for?” she said, still studying. “There’s got to be a hundred of them on the water. Wow, there’s hundreds all out here.”

“That be the soundings,” said Engrim. “Water depths.”

“Somebody knows all that?”

“‘Tis life or death to a sailor, Cap’n.”

“Are there more? Can I look at them?”

Edér’s voice belted out. “Vail? Trouble.”

*

“What the hell is that?”

Eld Engrim came up beside Vailond, eyeing the giant frilly shape bearing down on them. “A dhow, Captain. Heavy freight, lateen sail.”

Vailond gritted her teeth, more frustrated than afraid. “Run.”

“Bring her straight,” yelled Edér. “Let’s get that wind behind us.” Damn, did he have a fine yelling voice.

But three people on deck weren’t enough. Vailond swung her fist at her thigh over and over, and the dhow came alongside with a shadow like nightfall.

A rope ladder banged down from the high ship to the _Defiant_. An older man, lean and yellow-eyed, came first. “Parley,” he said cheerfully. “These be treacherous waters.”

That was a conversation she really didn’t want to have.

But somehow Captain Furrante of an association of pirates was pointing her at the Benweth who had damaged the _Defiant_ and offering an orlan cipher shiphunter to help her close the deal.

Memories slapped gently at Vailond’s brain, images and impressions that were not her own. A sailor’s life, a long one. Vailond did her damnedest to ignore it. “What do I do with a cipher then?” she said dazedly.

“You can get creative,” drawled the blue man.

Furrante flashed a gold tooth. “An ally of House Doemenel no doubt has ideas in mind.”

Ah. The ally who had done House Doemenel a convenient assassination back in the day. “I’m flattered, but why help me with it?”

“Serafen is an investment on my part,” said Furrante. “I think you will make him pay off.”

“Edér, please tell me we can do this without him.”

“I’d love to, but we are a little _short_ handed.” Edér and Serafen exchanged a look that could sour milk. “If he knows his ropes, we could use him.”

“Fine. But I sail on my terms to my ports.”

Furrante spread his hands and smiled. “As any independent privateer should. I respect that, Captain Vailond. And I wish you good health and good hunting.” Before she could reply Furrante was up his rope ladder and back on his bully of a ship.

Which left her with Edér and a scruffy-looking cipher who had started their relationship by thumbing idle memories into her head without her consent.

That cipher smiled. “Don’t look quite so delighted, Captain, someone might think something good had happened today.”

“I have done nothing but lose things for the past week and a half. If you could just not contribute to that I think we’ll get along. Don’t you have things to put in your cabin?”

“Things?” Serafen patted three bulging pockets and a tube slung over one shoulder. “Not so much.”

“That’s all you were traveling with?”

“’f I wanted roots I’d go find some dirt. That said, ah, I would appreciate an actual bunk.”

“You do work,” said Edér, “or were you going to skip straight to sleeping?”

Serafen eyed him warily. “I leave that to our Captain’s discretion.”

“There’s some deck swabbing needs doing,” suggested Edér.

“That seems like a waste of talent,” said Vailond. She knew Edér wouldn’t like what she was about to request. A stranger, a pirate, and an orlan – could there be anyone more tailor-made to get on Edér’s nerves? “Please see to the charts, Edér. I’ll show Serafen around. Engrim. Engrim!”

The old sailor was just coming up on deck. “Milady?” he said. “I heard no call to arms.”

“No, we had a nice talk. This is Serafen. He’s a shiphunter and he’ll be sailing with us when we deal with Benweth.”

Engrim turned his rheumy eyes to the orlan. “A shiphunter! A stroke of good luck!”

“Old fashioned,” said Serafen, “I appreciate that. Listen, Captain, I was wondering if I might take a tour of the vessel. Maybe point out a thing or two.”

The man’s loyalty was to a pirate Vailond had met once during a hostile boarding. And yet, her crew was inexperienced and her ship half rebuilt from scrap, and gods knew she wasn’t an expert. With a sailor listening to keep him honest, he might prove useful. “Engrim, come with us. I want your opinion on everything he says.”

But as they paced the deck, pointing and observing at the mast, the rigging, the gunwales, the helm, things Vailond still didn’t have names for, Serafen and Engrim raced ahead of Vailond’s knowledge, discussing, questioning, justifying, suggesting, verbally rebuilding the Defiant to be sleeker, faster, tougher, and, as far as Vailond could tell from their chattering, prettier.

A circuit of the deck, a tour of the mess, a brief trip down to the bunks and the stores. Serafen walked like he’d been born on board. They ended in her cabin on deck. The light was reddening, sliding right into the refuge of pale wood. There were four chairs fixed around the nailed-down table with its ornamental map of Eora. The remainder of the cabin was a fold-down bed and a fixed writing desk in the corner.

Everyone sat.

“Interesting vessel you ‘ave here,” said Serafen. “There’s a touch or two I might change, if I wanted her a mite faster.”

“A touch or two? I was listening to you two.” Vailond crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me honestly. What’s the one-sentence summary of what you found?”

“One sentence?” Serafen mulled it over. “Exactly how much did you hack your shipbuilding friends off for them to send you off on this?”

Engrim chortled.

Vailond scowled. “Engrim, if you thought this ship was so terrible, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Milady? I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear. They say the Lady of Caed Nua is particular about what she’s told.”

Probably after all those times she’d shot slavers without warning. And annoying people with some warning. “If it impacts my ability to get away from pirates…” she glared at Serafen, “ _more_ pirates…I want to be told.”

Serafen grinned. “I know a place or two you might put into dry dock. That’s expensive, though.”

“Hm. Anything we can do now?”

“Sooner you get Benweth off your back, more resources you’ll have for the future, you see?”

“He might drop things,” she suggested.

Serafen had these green eyes almost lost in the sweep of blue fur. They had a wicked merriment to them. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Engrim. Excuse us. Have yourself a rum ration, let her know it’s on me.”

“Yes, milady. Thank you, milady.” Engrim gave his sloppy salute and darted out the door.

“You knew his magic unsummoning word,” said Serafen, grinning.

The fear from Furrante’s ship was just starting to thaw from her heart, making her knees watery. She was glad she was sitting. “Here’s the situation, Serafen. I don’t know you, and I’m tracking a god. The only things I care about are the things that get me in line with that god. Am I clear?”

“As moonshine,” he said soberly.

“If the _Defiant_ can’t give chase then I’ll do what it takes to upgrade her. Benweth? Fine. I don’t care. Your Furrante should like that. Understand?”

Serafen scratched an ear and nodded. “I can help you, Cap. I ain’t seen yet the knot I can’t tie, nor the ship I can’t put the board to. You want a god? It’d give me some variety.”

Vailond stood. So did Serafen. Vailond staggered with a heave of the deck. Serafen darted to offer his arm, and Vailond reached to steady herself on it. When she thought she was ready she gritted her teeth and snatched both hands to grab the table instead, digging her fingernails in. “Damn it,” she whispered. “I’m trying not to do that.”

“I saw nothing,” he said huskily. He had the wickedest green eyes. “I think I have more questions now than I did when I got on board. That said, I brought the charts for Fort Deadlight, so…full ahead, shall we?”

The funny thing was, under all that swagger was an assurance that made him either an idiot or a very useful man to know. And a man who had heard of House Doemenel’s deadliest ally would not be trying to foist an idiot off on her. Furthermore, a useful man had better feel appreciated. She quickstepped to the door and braced herself on the handle. “I like you, Serafen.”

He looked thoroughly taken aback. People always did when she said stuff like that.

“And I think you’re going to fit in here. Stay through this watch and we’ll introduce you around.”

“As you say, Cap.” He was about her height, though the loose vest over the fur gave him a slight advantage in volume. “Well then. I believe your mate wanted me swabbing something.”

“My _what?_ ”

“Mate. First mate? Tall fellow, glares a lot?”

“Oh.” Mate meant something else where she was from. “Anything he says goes.”

“Ah.” Serafen looked at the boards, obviously recalculating. What for? Edér was the most reasonable man alive. “Well then. Shall we?”

*

“You’re on the gods’ own mission,” said Irrena, and Vailond didn’t instantly slap her. The woman was referring to getting something to do while her leg was up. Irrena twisted to deftly shuffle the deck while her leg stuck out to one side.

I need to keep an eye on our surprise friend, thought Vailond. “Well, we need four, and you weren’t going anywhere.” Irrena had made it to Vailond’s cabin on crutches and now sat at the low nailed-down table next to where Vailond’s bed would be when folded down.

Rum Dumb Riggere, whom Vailond had hired straight out of the Port Maje jail on the strength of Edér’s liking, grinned with a couple of vacant teeth. “I warn you, Captain, not many people beat me at Towers.”

“Let’s see which way the wind blows with yours truly on board,” drawled Serafen. The orlan looked much as he had upon his unwelcome arrival: sturdy leather vest, dark breeches, often-mended boots, and a pistol at each hip, one sized for his hands and one long-barrel piece that was clearly not there for ease of use. Blue fur clustered in the V of his shirt and out from under his elbow-cinched sleeves. His blue beard was tightly braided in what seemed like a permanent configuration. He had a coin purse at his belt and a trio of golden coins on a chain around his neck. He reached up to toy with them from time to time, setting them a-clinking. And his green eyes roved everywhere, but mostly on Vailond. She assumed that this was because she was the most immediate threat.

Irrena dealt six cards. Vailond set about analyzing her cards and studying her opponents. When the bidding started she looked at Serafen.

Serafen held her in mesmerizing green, then shot one eyebrow outrageously close to his hairline.

“What does that mean?” mouthed Vailond.

“Talking about the trumps,” chided Riggere.

Serafen had started wagging his tongue toward Irrena.

“Make him stop doing that!” she snapped.

The bidding completed, not before Serafen had almost dislocated his nose pressing his finger alongside. Vailond was lost, and lost lost a lot of tricks. Serafen continued signaling incomprehensibly throughout the summary smackdown.

Vailond tossed her cards in Irrena’s direction. “Serafen! What the hell was that supposed to mean?”

“I just wanted to know how you’d react,” he said sunnily. “You don’t work with friendly liars on the regular, do you?”

Irrena and Rum Dumb Riggere exchanged looks. Vailond noticed that this time. “You’re getting very comfortable. You two. Out.” Her Port Maje crew cleared out. “Serafen.”

He wasn’t smiling. “Captain?”

Vailond hugged herself. She sneezed. Then she started laughing. She had spent the entire game trying to interpret a complete anarchist, and had in the process demonstrated some of the worst technique in all the Deadfire. She laughed harder. “You are a card! You’re lucky I didn’t have them haul you over the side!”

He chuckled. “Cap. You’re not the type.”

“I could be.”

“Mayhaps. I doubt it. Had a feeling about you, when I came on board. You’re all right.” He leaned back and rested one boot on the table. “But while we’re on the topic of cooperation, I seem to have offended your right-hand man.”

Vailond put her feet up and crossed her legs at the ankle. “Hm.” Edér hadn’t had much good to say of him. “And he’s a good judge of character.”

“Ah. I take it we won’t be holding hands and singing any time soon.”

“Has he offered to pet you?”

Serafen’s raised eyebrows were as extreme as before. “He’s really not my type.”

“I’ll let him know what side of the hull I want you in.”

“In or out? That’s uncommonly kind, Cap.”

“Well…I do need a rematch.”

“Let me play with the lamp lass. A dozen pands says she starts signaling back.”

“She would never. You’re on.”

*

Vailond was at the bow again, looking into the stiff oncoming wind. Wind in the Dyrwood never felt like this, overwhelming, scented, practically alive.

“So we’ve had him for a day and a half,” said Aloth behind her. “What do you think so far?”

“He knows what he’s talking about,” she said. “Otherwise? I have no idea.” She turned to him. “What do you think?”

He looked neutral, the old diplomatic neutral, the one that might cover anything. She had a feeling she knew what he was suppressing now. But he said, mildly, “May I ask what you expect me to say?”

Well, that was easy. “You don’t trust him. He’s a dirty orlan pirate who’s too friendly by half and it’s only a matter of time before he abandons us at best and robs us blind then sells us to our enemies and abandons us at worst.”

“Vividly summarized,” said Aloth, one eyebrow rising. “I don’t particularly mind that he’s an orlan.”

“If I throw him overboard Furrante’s going to use his next shiphunter to track us down.”

“I know. His sponsorship is something we aren’t in a position argue with. Just…be careful. Don’t give him anything you can’t afford to see broken.”

“Help me watch him, would you? Maybe he’ll earn his place here.”

“Maybe,” said Aloth. “I hope so.”

*

Vailond was comfortable with Aloth and Edér. She had nothing but instinct soothing her when it came to Serafen. And Xoti…Xoti chased souls she couldn’t even see, and credited Vailond with helping. Vailond had no idea how to feel about that.

She brought them all into the meeting.

“Captain Furrante wants Benweth dead,” said Vailond. “I want his gold. I want all the gold we can carry. We’ll need it to refit the _Defiant_.” Serafen perked up. “We free anyone he’s imprisoned. We give his staff the chance to walk away. We’re playing this as clean as we can.”

“Historically, we don’t try subtlety for long,” said Aloth. “Is this going to be any different?”

“That all depends on how reasonable the Deadlight guards are,” said Vailond. “Serafen, any idea of their loyalties?”

“Flexible as a three-suole whore, if I know them.” Serafen grinned. “Personnel at a fortress like that be frustrated a lot of the time, and Benweth isn’t known for soothing tempers.”

“’Frustrated’? Are we buying ‘em or, uh, buying ‘em?” Xoti said warily.

“Well, I can’t say I know how priests do it, but gold for silence is the faster exchange rate.”

The longboat held five: Vailond, Edér, Aloth, Serafen, and Xoti. They paddled with muffled oars; Xoti, after some argument, shrouded her lamp. Serafen guided them to a hidden landing and led the climb up slick rock toward the dark mass of the fortress.

“And that’s where they sheared off the steps,” Serafen reported, eyeing the gap in the stone beneath the fortress window slit.

Something tapped Vailond’s leg. She turned and Edér handed her a hefty grappling hook on a rope. Vailond accepted it and handed it up. Serafen shot her a grin that should have betrayed their presence by brightness alone and swung the hook up in a heavy, no-failures-imagined kind of way. It caught inside the window and before Vailond could issue the next instruction Serafen was letting himself over the window’s edge. Seconds later he stuck his head out and his thumb up.

Vailond released the crossbow strapped to her side and waved Edér up. His tower shield covered his entire back, and his trusty scale mail must have slowed him down, but he hauled himself to the window with apparent ease and swung a leg up to pull himself in.

Xoti was next. “Really?” she whispered, eyeing the rope with something akin to horror.

“You get used to it in this crowd,” murmured Aloth.

“Wait,” breathed Vailond. “I learned something while you were away.”

“Is that something how to install a staircase?” said Xoti. “I’d settle for a good tree.”

Vailond’s grasp of nature without Tyrhos at her side felt weak and faint. All the same she concentrated, and took one end of the rope.

Green tendrils sprung up around her hand and started climbing the rope like a trellis. She felt it drawing, not from herself, but from the scraps of soil on this rock face, the insistence of plants growing from cracks and cups of sunlight. She willed it and she guided it, knowing totally what it was supposed to be. Up and up, almost to the window, and it got thicker, starting at the bottom, and then came the thorns. Black thorns a hand and more long. The rope swung toward the stone wall and tendrils clung while thorns formed a rough ladder. It ended with a few green wisps grasping the windowsill.

Aloth was frankly staring. “Vail, that’s astounding.”

She had used it to make bare new buildings in Caed Nua a little more homey. Now she smiled. “Easier?”

Xoti looked at both of them. “Well, that’s a lot more like getting back into my bedroom in my parents’ house. Thanks.” Then, with elbows and knees akimbo, she climbed up the thick black thorns to the window’s edge, where Edér’s gloved hand helped her through.

Aloth seemed to have forgotten the setting. “There’s so much more we missed,” he said softly.

“Up, up,” she murmured, smiling. “Trust me.”

And he did, enough to get to the window. She came up last, and left the hook to dangle in the embrace of the plant, just below where a casual observer might see when looking out the window.

*

Serafen beckoned. “This way, Captain. There’s a bit of a balcony, you can get your bearings.”

Vailond could hug him. The warren of Fort Deadlight made Caed Nua look rational. Vailond and friends had locked about six bound guards in various closets, but she wanted to get on with the main event. She just had no idea where the main event in this building was supposed to be.

The balcony turned out to have room for Serafen, Vailond, and nobody else. She waved the others down and took a deep breath of salt air. This wasn’t her native forest, but at least it was outdoors.

From up here Fort Deadlight was an irregular black shape among irregular black rocks. The lamp set at the outermost stone point over the water seemed like a joke in this bitter night. People were gathered in the courtyard, doing Vailond didn’t know what.

She leaned toward Serafen’s ear, determined to keep her voice under the faint tread of the wind. “Benweth?”

He turned back and there was an awkward shuffle before they sorted out that his mouth was near her ear. “No,” he whispered, lips tickling. “Bastard’s probably in the big quarters.” He pointed. “Probably one more locked door to get through.”

Shuffle. She was sitting wrong. His ear twitched, snapping across her breath. “Do you pick locks?” she managed.

Shuffle. Deeper, rougher, and they were sitting facing in opposite directions, with her turned in profile, mouth to ear, with nowhere for their facing hands to go but between, “You might try my hands.”

Shuffle, bump her nose to his sideburn. She succeeded in not jumping. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Still twisted in profile, she waited for him to go on. He looked at the shelter of the balcony railing. He closed their breathless gap and kept whispering. “I’ve got to come clean about something.”

Vailond scooted away and readied her knife. “Already?” she said, pointing it toward his pants.

“Heh. Understand the sentiment, captain, believe you me. No. Come listen.” Uneasily she came back to him, once again facing opposite, once again resting her weight on a hand planted between them while she leaned to brush his mouth. “I wanted to come here in search of a man called Remaro. Benweth may have him in custody, and, well, I want him out. The Príncipi has a shiphunter after him…but that’s nothing to us, if we have him.”

She weighed that. “You want me to take on a man wanted by the Príncipi.”

“Aye.”

“After you were loaned to me by the Príncipi.”

“Aye. Well, it’s not like the organization is limited to one mind.”

“No, apparently I’m getting two of them. Why would I do this?”

Serafen’s habitual smile was gone, and there was a new huskiness in his voice. “This is family, captain. I’d owe you a favor. Above and beyond what Furrante loaned me for. I’m good for it. I’m sure you’ve noticed the acute sensory problems of the guards we’ve been meeting. Consider it a down payment.”

He was fidgeting, wrinkling and unwrinkling his brow. This really mattered to him. “Brig?” she said.

“Most likely,” he said. As she untwisted her neck she came close, very close, to his face. His breath was warm, his planted hand bumping hers just a little bit. She was suddenly acutely uncomfortable. Was that weird stuffy feeling due to him being a cipher? Or was that just something she couldn’t extinguish when he was close?

She scrambled away. “Let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vailond lost that bet about Xoti signaling during bidding. She's a total showman.


	5. Remaro’s Chest; War Stories; The Gods’ Solution; Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond and company finish with Fort Deadlight. They tell the crew of times past. Vailond hears the gods' ideas for dealing with Eothas, and finally arrives at Neketaka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passages in _italics_ are drawn from game.

“Two more in that closet,” Xoti reported, jerking a thumb toward a door several paces back from the balcony ladder.

“They put up rather more of a fight,” added Aloth.

“O’ course,” said Serafen. “They didn’t have me leaning on them.”

“And modest, too,” said Edér.

“Easy,” said Vailond. “We’re going to clear out command and then check the brig.”

Edér started. “The brig? Why?”

“In case there’s somebody useful there,” she said.

“Well, you were askin’ the guy who would know.” Edér shrugged, then seemed to recollect himself. “Point me.”

“One locked door that way,” she said, proud to know which way to point.

It was a heavy padlock on a chunky, deeply carved door. This was some of the nicest material of the fortress, and the lock seemed to suit that.

None of her friends would know how to pick a lock. “Serafen?” she said, hoping that the pirate was a thief. He’d made the comment about his hands. “Any ideas?”

He drew the longer of his pistols, walked to point-blank range, and fired into the hasp. He gripped the lock and pulled. “’Course,” he said, “that might not be the most elegant solution…but, you asked.”

There was shouting on the far side. Vailond took up her regular spot: behind Edér and to his left, with Aloth on her right. Xoti hovered uneasily until Vailond took her wrist and guided her to one side. “Wait,” said the priestess, “I’ll get more rope.” She ran off.

Vailond listened to the shouts and talked through her teeth. “How many people can you confuse at once?”

“Well, I got four here,” Serafen said brightly. Brightly, but he kept the pistol up.

Thus it was that Benweth’s guards, the really nasty ones, pressed one at a time into a storm concocted by Aloth, Serafen, and a returning Xoti. Edér hauled them through, Serafen and Aloth mentally drubbed, Xoti tied, and Vailond mostly watched.

“That worked?” she finally said.

Serafen’s eyes were closed. “According to the last gentleman, there are three people left in there. Benweth, another man, and a woman. It seems very likely they be in a fighting mood.”

“Aloth?” said Edér. The wizard came up close behind. “I’m going in left to right. Make ‘em unhappy ‘til I get to ‘em.”

“It might be icy.”

“Fine, just keep it off my boots.”

“Like old times.”

“Heh. More like unlike old times.”

Vailond stayed behind Edér’s elbow until he charged into the room. It was big and firelit and there were three people, and honestly Vailond had no idea which one was Benweth but they were in the middle of a pirate turf war and at least her local area guide had zero hang-ups about going in firing at all three.

Benweth and his friends’ firearms were much more noise and smoke than actual projectile. Serafen screamed “Who the fuck gave Benweth a blunderbuss?” but when Xoti checked on him after the battle he was just brushing things off his vest and growling.

“That’s it,” he said. “We can shuttle his earthly possessions off at will.” He looked at Vailond. “And?”

“I said we’d check the brig,” she said.

“You were serious?” said Edér.

“We’re going to check the brig for one of Serafen’s friends.”

Edér seemed to calculate. “That’s another hour or more in frequent mortal danger.”

“He’s helped us. I want to see if we can find his friend.”

“Believe you me,” said Serafen, “I can keep throwing pirates off their game all night. Sometimes have.”

Aloth addressed Vailond. “And what are you getting in return?”

Serafen answered. “A clever cipher’s goodwill, and I will make good on that.”

“Thoughts?” said Vailond, to get Aloth past whatever sour taste was in his mouth.

The elf sighed. “A pirate’s future is rarely stable enough for him to cash promises on. That’s all I can confidently say.”

The hope sliding off Serafen’s face went directly to Vailond’s heart and she didn’t know why. She had turned down dozens of men asking favors in Caed Nua. She had turned down men offering favors, too. Not all of them, but many.

She addressed him. “Are you willing to stay on the hunt when this is done and you have your Remaro?”

“My word, Captain.” He spat on his hand. “Shake?”

“Ew,” said Edér.

Vailond took the chance. She shook. “If your man is here, we’ll find him.”

Fort Deadlight kept the carvings and tapestries for the command room. Below that leaned splintered doors, filthy halls, bare stone sweating in the unpleasant heat. By the time Vailond reached the brig she really wanted a bath.

The brig guards were mostly already drunk. Vailond had stopped bothering with closets; she made sure they were well tied (Xoti was a wonder with knots, for reasons she coyly avoided explaining) and hurried on her way.

They checked cell after cell, opening them in a creak of rust and politely dismissing them one by one. Serafen studied, hard, but at the end of the row he slumped. “I guess—wait. Wait up, Cap’n. I would know this chest anywhere.”

Sitting in the guardhouse, it was a box. A wood box, slightly bigger than Vailond’s torso. Vailond thought that getting attached to one’s possessions was always weird, but she listened.

“Remaro hauled this thing clear up and down the Deadfire, he did.” Serafen’s fingers dexterously worked, not the lock, but little carvings and bumps on the outside. The lid popped open. There was nothing in it. Vailond found herself disappointed.

Serafen was humming cheerfully. He dug in and did more fine work with his fingers, and the bottom of the chest popped up. “There we are,” Serafen murmured, and pulled out a surprisingly well-preserved piece of paper. “Let’s see, now. _‘Dear S – that be me! – I knew you’d seek me out. Please abandon the trail here. I fashioned this predicament for my own, and I’d not have you lock its weight around your own ankles. If you find yourself imperiled, seek Udyne at Magic Water. She can help.’”_

Serafen bit his lip, frowning at the paper. It failed to tell him anything more. “I know magic water. I don’t know Udyne from the pox. Are we putting in at Neketaka?”

Vailond recalled the chart. “Yes, probably for a few days.”

“Good.” He seemed to relax. “Appreciate it, Cap. I should show you ‘round the bathhouse.”

“What, in person?” squeaked Xoti.

“Difficult to comment on the soap offerings without looking,” said Serafen.

From there it was all transporting gold and valuables. Exhausting work, but they managed to get back to the ship before anybody collapsed. They had what they wanted out of Deadlight, and they’d gotten it together.

*

It was the end of Vailond and Edér’s shift. It was the start of Serafen and Xoti’s, and Aloth was around somewhere. The sun was going down over the long sweeping arm of the ocean’s far edge.

There is no edge, thought Vailond. It just keeps going. She missed the Dyrwood sometimes.

“So then,” and Edér was laughing as he spoke to what crew had gathered in the mess, “she says ‘Second verse. Same as the first.’ And shoots him in the neck!” There was an approving roar. Irrena, who had proved to be particularly bold, slapped Vailond’s back before Edér continued. “I ain’t never seen an undead suit of armor go down so fast.”

“Don’t let him fool you, he’s the menace,” called Vailond. “We were in an animancers’ complex once, in among these flesh golems twice as tall as me. We were talking to a boy whose soul suddenly jumped right out – I saw it with my own eyes – and struck the two nearest golems at once. They made this screeching noise like you’ve never heard outside a staelgar rutting and came right at us, and by the time they got to me Edér had shield out and bodychecked the thing like it was nothing. Swung around, stopped the other one about three inches from my face. I’m throwing bolts that bounce like pins and he kept them right in place until Aloth and me could finish them.”

“And Aloth with the fireball?” said Edér. “It’s got to be the first time I ever saw it _not_ set something we needed on fire.” Aloth was making a sincere effort to melt into the wall, but he was laughing, too. “Folks, when you ask Aloth for a fire spell, be really, really sure you want it.”

“I don’t know,” said Irrena, “next time we get boarded….”

Serafen snorted. “I’ve seen a fire mage at work on an opposing ship, and believe you me, unless you ‘ave an ironclad means of getting free of your opponent, you don’t want your target ablaze. Fire jumps easily.”

“There’s more of a story than that,” said Vailond.

Serafen cast a look around the crowded mess. Whatever it was he saw, if only a big audience, he smiled. “She were a structural beauty—the wizard, not the ship, the ship was shit. The poli—pirates,” he looked at Vailond, “came alongside and lashed us to, and we without cannon outside the Vailian Special.” The room laughed. Vailond made a note to find out what a Vailian Special was. “Our wizard Dally and her prow stepped forward and yelled, ‘Ye could take me alive, but I’ve got teeth in places ye won’t like!’ Categorically false, by the way.” He waggled his eyebrows. “They were giving their speech about coming peacefully, which is when Dally brings up the fireball. She screeches and lets fly, right amidships. Suddenly every blasted lawma—pirate,” he looked at Vailond, “is scrambling to get on board my vessel. We take who we can, then cut the lashes and that’s when a gust of wind takes the flames from their deck to ours. I don’t need to tell you, fire is death on a ship, and we’re freshly crawling with panicked idiots, some of them still trying to arre—plunder us. If Dally hadn’t started hurling seawater to soak the deck we’d probably have dropped her over the gunwale and counted ourselves justified. I were guarding six circles of tied-up prisoners the rest of the way to the…comfortable port,” more laughter, “where we let them off.”

Xoti bit her lip and grinned. “Why do I think a ‘comfortable port’ isn’t comfortable nor porty?”

“You can drop anchor at a desert island,” volunteered Eld Engrim. “And stretch out on luxuriant sands.”

“For quite some time,” chuckled Serafen.

The conversation eddied and wandered from there. Vailond went for a mug just as Serafen did. “You really seemed to appreciate that prow,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

“To this day I don’t know which god has children with that kind of endowment,” he said cheerfully. “But she should get around more.”

She sipped, unsure whether godlike ever manifested as large-breasted. “It’s really hard for you to pretend you don’t pirate.”

“Cap’n,” he said earnestly, “I’m as on the up and up as you require.”

“Deadlight is dealt with. You can go on your piratical way.”

The good-natured gleam in his eye vanished. “Burning that hard to be rid of me, are you?”

“No, I just thought you would be. I’m chasing a god, you didn’t sign up for that.”

He leaned in to tap her forearm, a strange little promise. “Most of my best stories are things I didn’t sign up for. You want me, Captain, I’m at your disposal.” He grinned rakishly. “Make of that what you will.”

“’Want’?” Not clear yet. “Ale?”

“I’ll drink to that.”

*

Vailond was ready to sleep. She lay down on the bunk. She closed her eyes and felt the ocean scarcely more than arm’s reach away.

What happened next wasn’t like the sneaky dawning of purple visions. It was like someone grabbed her guts and ripped her through time and space to a blank, flat platform surrounded by kith figures about fifty times Vailond’s size.

Ten of them. Joy. The gang, minus Eothas, was all here.

One in particular seemed lit up. It was shifting between…ah, between the Usher and the Pallid Knight. Berath itself.

“Guys,” yelled Vailond, “I’ve had two weeks and I just got my ship going. No, I don’t know where Eothas is.”

A skeletal woman leaned in. “Is that all you know? We should annihilate Eothas now before he does something not easily undone.”

That sounded bad. “He’s, uh, looking for luminous adra,” said Vailond. “Does that help?”

It didn’t. The gods bickered. Vailond knew them all, their aspects and their preferred forms of worship. She knew them all, as every kith did. Gods, or heaps of souls that the ancient Engwithans had fashioned into legendary figures. Fakes, but fakes with all the power you might expect from a deity.

Now they spoke of destroying Eora rather than giving Eothas the chance to act.

“Maybe don’t do that? No?” Vailond really felt that she was done contributing. “Oh, Magran, grant me a boon,” she muttered.

The fire-touched warrior raised a hand for silence among her peers. “What is it?”

“About a dozen more Godhammers.”

Magran sneered. Skaen snickered. An explosive to kill another god would be nice, but she wouldn’t get one. It was all so, so pointless.

Then, without a decision, the Pallid Knight stooped and stared at Vailond, giant, pushy. The goddess closed its eyes, and when Vailond came to herself she was in her bunk.

So…get out ahead of Eothas before the other gods decided to ram a moon into her world to shut him up. Vailond squeezed her eyes shut. Not so much to ask.

She hated to be alone for this. Who could she trust with the truth of it? She appreciated Edér and Aloth but didn’t want their concern, not this hard. Tyrhos should be here for the visions. He wasn’t afraid of the gods. But he didn’t recognize her anymore except as prey.

Was that what she was to the gods? A hound to be coddled or punished at will, to be sent on tasks they could not or did not wish to perform? No. Vailond loved Tyrhos. These gods loved nothing more than the sound of their own voices.

She went looking for Aloth. Of all the people on this ship, he was likeliest to have a book to look at.

*

The Pallid Knight got Vailond a berth in the Neketaka docks by spraying soul visions until the docksmaster was too terrified to stop them.

Gods.

The plan was simple: go to an official in Neketaka, get a map of luminous adra formations in the Deadfire, figure out which one Eothas was likely to hit first. Vailond might sidetrack for ship improvements.

Queen’s Berth was damp and busy. Vailond never kept much impression of the ports where she had left Aedyr and come to the Dyrwood six years ago. She remembered Ondra’s Gift in Defiance Bay. By comparison Queen’s Berth was well ordered, but even busier. Neketaka had too much going on to allow the ruin that storms had brought to Defiance Bay. Storms could break on this city, but they wouldn’t bend it.

“Serafen,” said Vailond, “you were saying we need more than just the patch repairs if we’re to go in deep water.”

“Full heartedly agreed, Cap.”

Xoti idly shook her lamp. It cast a light that felt wrong in the eyes, like it was reaching into you. In Vailond’s Watcher sense it had knives. “There’s a man in Queen’s Berth,” said Xoti, “a shipwright, helped us out quite a lot getting to Port Maje.”

“I know a man who knows a man,” said Serafen. “Could be pricey.”

“Let’s talk to the guy who’s nice to religious folk, hm?” said Vailond. “Maybe he’ll be impressed by the lantern.”

Xoti made a chiding gesture. “It’s not a parlor trick, Captain.”

Vailond shrugged. “Parlor tricks don’t get us what we want. Special abilities do.”

“So be a Watcher at him.”

“The problem is that only I can see that.”

Serafen snorted.

“You were impressive enough at the dock,” needled Xoti.

“Let’s not ask her to channel gods more than she has to?” said Edér. “You, too, Xoti. We could just pay the man.”

Aloth looked polite. “It’s true that we hauled enough precious metal out of that accursed fort.”

Xoti led the crew around the base of the walled hill past the docks to a sandy strand where stood the skeleton of a ship. Vailond slowed to examine it, leaving the others to follow Xoti without her. Long curving keel, broad beams: so that was the first step, the core strength. One more image to fit into the puzzle of her new seafaring life.

Beside the skeleton a seam-faced dwarf employed a wooden mallet amidst heaps and heaps of wooden boards, occasionally swearing as he plucked splinters out of his stubby fingers. He looked up and scowled. “Zamar. Shipwright. Slouching sloop at the docks, eh? I can make her seaworthy if you can damn well pay.”

“Cash up front?” said Vailond.

Zamar dropped his mallet. He stood, wiping his hands, and looked at Vailond like she might be his next meal, which might be true. “You have my attention and my expertise.”

“I need my ship to go fast. Xoti, is this the guy you described? Do you trust him?”

“The Dawnstar girl,” said Zamar, nodding to her. “Grand old caravel. How did she work out?”

Xoti beamed. “Still floating, thank you. I believe you’ll make the _Defiant_ more’n spitballs and prayer.”

“Stick with me, we’ll get solid matter involved.” Zamar was smiling now. “From eyeballing it, there’s some structural work that’ll take weeks, and some patching and quality of life we can do in, say, seven days.”

“As long as she’s fast and mostly safe,” said Vailond.

“Your concern warms the cockles of my salty old heart,” drawled Serafen.

Zamar raised his voice toward the bored-looking workers around him. “Look sharp, you dogs! We’re going to rebuild for speed!”

Aloth, who had observed everything and especially Vailond’s last request with a faint air of concern, now spoke up. “Is any amount of added speed going to make up a week on the trail?”

You’ll be making up time at the bottom of the ocean if you don’t do this,” said Zamar. “Just a professional opinion.”

“Do it,” said Vailond. “Use wizards if you have to. When I get going I want my only problem to be a god.”

“You, too, eh?” muttered Zamar, but he didn’t elaborate.

*

The gaudily dressed aumaua courier found them in the Wild Mare, where they were enjoying a steady deck and some food that hadn’t been salted from here to the White that Wends.

“Watcher of Caed Nua,” he said, bowing immediately to Vailond. She saw Aloth and Edér wince at the name of Watcher. “Your presence is requested by Queen Onekaza the Second, at Kahanga Palace, tomorrow at noon.”

“Saves us some networking,” drawled Edér.

Vailond crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. “I’ll be there. Anything else?”

“No, my lady. Ngati watch.” He touched his forehead and sped on his way.

“Wow,” said Xoti, crossing her ankles under her chair. “I guess they heard we’ve got something to do with Eothas.”

“And she must have access to the locations of luminous adra deposits,” said Vailond.

“Any that haven’t been concealed by the Vailians or the Royal Deadfire Company,” said Aloth.

“People are dying,” protested Vailond. “They wouldn’t hide…oh. They really would, wouldn’t they?”

He met her eyes with a degree of sorrow she really wasn’t comfortable with. “I regret to say, yes.”

“We’re going to fix this,” she told him.

“You and what cipher army?” said Serafen. “I’m good, but that kind of secret tends to get broken into parts for safekeeping. I doubt you can get a hazanui and a trade prince in one room.”

Aloth shook his head. “We don’t know how many deposits Eothas needs. If we can cover the ones the Queen knows about…it’ll be something.”

“There’s only one of you,” said Xoti.

“I think that might work in our favor,” said Edér. “He clearly had some kind of thing for you, Vail.”

Serafen snorted.

“ _Not_ like that. He listens to her, or talks to her at least. I reckon if you went to any luminous adra pillar, he’d wade through the ocean to get to you.”

“Horrifying but plausible.” Vailond slumped in her chair. “All right. I guess we deal with a queen. I’ve never done that before.”

“I don’t know Huana protocol,” said Aloth, “but I know all the Aedyran customs. That with your Aedyran accent might be interpreted as a good-faith effort to behave.”

Right. He’d known the side of Aedyr that she never had. She’d been poor and criminal; he’d been educated and proper. Their world was infinitely closer here than it had been in the mere accident of a country across the wide sea.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, “early.”

“Well then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Edér stood to leave. Xoti stood to leave. Edér said, “Vail, a word?”

Xoti fell behind.

Edér took the stairs two at a time, letting his arms swing boyishly. At the top he turned and smiled. In that smile nothing was wrong in the world.

She followed at the pace of an athletic but short elf. “How’ve your two weeks been?”

“Four. You were out for half of ‘em.” Edér smiled. “I don’t know. We’ve got Aloth. Remember when it was just the three of us?”

“And me going slowly insane? Ah, old times.” He looked like she’d yelled at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was simpler with just you two.”

“You snarin’ animals for breakfast and Aloth tryin’ to act like he wasn’t horrified by that entire process. Remember when Iselmyr almost got him to bite a raw squirrel leg?”

“Oh, it is so mean to laugh.” But she did. “You know, before I met you…most of my life events were somebody hurting me. Stealing from me, stabbing me, trying things I’m not going to describe. And then I met you. I don’t think I believed in good intentions before then.”

“Good intentions are nice, but they’re a little easy, too.”

“You have to back them up.”

He eyed the wall in thought. “Yeah. I guess everybody knows it, but doing it’s like pinning a greased pig.”

“Nobody in their right mind would?”

He chuckled. “Something like that.”

“One more thing, while we talk about intentions.”

“Yes?”

“Serafen, actually.”

“Oh.” Edér’s face went stiff. “Uh, what about him?”

“You have concerns, don’t you?”

“Your word goes, Vail. It has to when you’re the captain. I was in the military long enough to realize that.”

“But you have concerns.”

“Well, sure. He’s from the Príncipi. Pirates. There’s not an honest bone in any body other than maybe the ones they keep stuffed in footlockers at the bottom of the canal.”

“And he’s an orlan.”

Edér blew out a breath. “That’s not fair. You got to realize, where I’m from, you don’t see ‘em except when they’re criminals. Thieves, mostly. Worse, sometimes.”

“I don’t think Serafen’s a problem because he’s an orlan.”

“But the pirate thing bothers you.” Edér sounded like he felt justified.

“I honestly don’t know how much. Here’s the thing, hasn’t he been helpful every single day he’s been on board?”

Edér seemed to chew on that. “There’s the thing,” he said at length. “Every damn thing he says is pirate speak for something useful. The long and short is, he should be a ship’s officer. Under supervision.”

“I know. Temporarily. He’ll be leaving before we see Eothas.”

“I knew you’d understand. “

She took a chance, but she felt right about it no matter what he said. “First mate?”

Edér coughed. “Say what?”

“I know he has the experience. I need that experience. And you and I can keep an eye on him.” That wasn’t an unpleasant prospect.

“I think it’s a bit much, but you’re the captain.”

“And off that ship, you’re my right hand.”

“On it I’m more of an elbow. Got it.” He grinned easily. “Anything else?”

“No. Good night, Edér.”

“Good night, Vail.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. Aloth, too.”

“Lucky you don’t have to find out.” He smiled and turned away.

So that was that. They’d found their balance. Vailond went to sleep in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still struggling to find the right chapter length. I've never written four thousand consecutive words about anything. I view it and understand it in shorter pieces. Some of these chapters naturally fall into single arcs and some really don't and it's difficult to structure that. It's a work in progress.


	6. Godlikes and the Godly; News of Hasongo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond discovers three fellow-travelers, splits the party between two temples, and spars with an upstart. The direction of her quest is set twice over.
> 
> Serafen brings up things from an older, harsher Vailond, which she’ll have to deal with.
> 
> Tomorrow expect a short bonus chapter about all the recruits!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use italics for two things in this chapter: direct game quotes, and telepathic communication. Only one character uses the latter and it's made clear in text when that is.

Edér and Xoti were in the common room and she was touching her Eothas pendant and smiling. Vailond almost turned around and went back to a good sneaking point to find out what he would do. But, no, she didn’t really want him tormented. She came to their table and smiled. “Xoti. Edér.”

Xoti bounced a foot back and blushed. “Good morning, Vail.”

“We were just talking about the Temple of Gaun,” said Edér. “I’d like to see it, maybe after our meeting with the Queen.”

“That sounds fine. Do you know someone there?”

“Well, it’s more heard about. One of the Dawnstars, at the Temple of Gaun. Nice lady in Port Maje says she might be able to find a Dawnstar I used to know. Old friend, so to speak.”

There was something about the way he said it. Xoti seemed to catch on, too. “A ‘friend’?”

Edér grinned sheepishly. “This woman I knew. _We used to…ah, you know_.”

Vailond didn’t know. She gritted her teeth. She knew nothing whatsoever about this.

“ _Heh, and she was real loud, too. Used to have to cover her mouth or she’d get the dog howling in the next room_.”

“And your big hands,” Vailond deadpanned to cover the surge of her pulse. “Must’ve been useful.”

He was smiling. “Oh, I know you’d like her.”

You’re my best friend, she thought. “It’s late. We should see the Queen and then go in the morning.”

“Understood.” Edér’s spirits did not dampen. “Thanks.”

She turned around, and Aloth was there to teach her about Aedyran customs for behavior around royalty. She could say this for the man, he was great at taking her mind off things. Little things, big things. This.

*

The Palace at Serpent’s Crown was bigger than any building had any right to be. Vailond forced herself to lead the way, knowing that rank mattered here. And that she was not a lowly hunter to enter by the kitchen.

Enormous doors stood open to the air that had a salt tang even all the way up here. Vailond marched into an entry hall and stopped.

There was a sphere, lit by vivid blue lights, turning and turning over nothing but floor. It was studded with silver fish of different shapes and sizes. It was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Vailond shook herself. She had always felt that Caed Nua was a busy people-ful place, but Kahanga Palace seemed to have more people in this lovely room entry hall than Vailond had seen total in her time as Lady of Caed Nua. Watershapers, stormshapers, retainers, guards, people asking for things, people here things.

Low in her mind, the memory of Edér’s smile crept in and soured the rest of it. It wasn’t just that Edér didn’t want her. It was that Edér didn’t want her but some woman walked Eora that he had. Was she taller? Prettier? More Human? Better voice? Better eyes? Feminine, fashionable? Vailond barely noticed when the retainer came to stand before her.

The retainer banged a staff on the floor. “The disturbance at the docks. You will come with us.”

“That was just a misunderstanding,” Vailond said, annoyed. “I paid the fee.” She had had to open the cowering dockmaster’s hand and shove coins in, but she did pay.

They went up these stairs that had water running down one wall in braided patterns. Vailond clung to the pink coral railing to avoid losing her bearings. The room she was brought to was huge, bigger than the one downstairs and just as crowded.

Vailond tried to scan the room. Queen Onekaza was an aumaua, like most of the people around here. Solidly built, striking. She could heft a weapon if she wanted to. She looked like she didn’t have to to get her way. A man of similar looks stood at her side. Before them…Vailians, lots of them, and aumaua, lots of them, too.

Onekaza looked at Vailond, and suddenly Vailond heard a voice by one ear. _“These contribute to nothing more than their own din, I fear.”_

And as though the Queen hadn’t said that she silenced the tangled disputes with a hand. “Lady of Caed Nua. For what do you disturb my docks?”

“I’m hunting Eothas. All I want is where he’s going and why.”

Words rippled, almost mocking. Onekaza waved again. “Then you would seek what my priests have not yet seen. Though a god who stands as tall as a mountain must not be so challenging a mark.”

“I’ll tell you that when I meet him.”

 _“Ha.”_ “You show confidence, at least. We have news you may value. His last strike was at Hasongo. He did not bear the competition of its lighthouse…you must go in on charts. We are settled.”

A bluish aumaua spoke up. “Hasongo is a Rauataian outpost. Let one of ours accompany her. She may use the assistance.”

The volunteered woman was an uncommonly tall, lean aumaua who stood by a good-sized bird of prey. The way she touched its head and shoulder spoke of long closeness. Vailond understood. She welcomed Maia. A spy, but a ranger couldn’t be all bad.

“The Vailians have a stake in these waters. We will send someone suitable,” said a short, wiry-looking Vailian. “Pallegina, you traveled in the Dyrwood.”

Vailond hadn’t even seen the statuesque feathered godlike. Now, however, the crowd of tall strangers parted with the woman at the center. Pallegina gave her a faint smile. “I have met Lady DeGauer.”

“Come with me,” said Vailond. Another spy, but her old friend wasn’t bad. It was like they’d just defeated an ogre together, and were deciding on where to sleep. It was like that: a simple decision, one that would put them on their feet on the morrow.

“Then it’s settled,” said the Queen. “That will be all.” _“I hope your coalition building is as sharp as your weapons.”_

What, just like that? Onekazu had given nothing but a name, and her throne room’s factions had added nothing but eyes. And Pallegina. At least she got one more familiar face.

*

Serafen had no illusions about the woman he’d been sent to evaluate. She was mature like an elf, blunt like a hammer, and determined like ramming speed on a man o’ war.

But when she’d seen that water sculpture in Kahanga Palace, for a minute she was a girl, like a pearl couched in one of those spiky giant clams.

She stared through the wall as she came down the stairs. “Serafen,” she said.

“Captain?” he opened.

She looked straight through him. “Hm?”

“How are you on the subject of art?”

She was suddenly paying attention. “What?”

“It’s just, you don’t seem tickled by the political highlights of the city…there be a watershapers’ guild hall you might fancy.”

“Why do you care?”

“Why would I not? I be your guide to the Archipelago. I’d be neglecting my duty to not show you the sights.”

She frowned. “Lead the way.”

The guild house in Periki’s Overlook was nearly the size of the palace, and had as much traffic in and out. Serafen walked with Vailond up the broad pathway. Some ways from the door she side-slipped out of the traffic so neatly Serafen was three steps ahead before he realized she was gone. Not many people could do that to him.

She had danced behind a park bench and was staring at the guild house. It was round and brightly colored. The outer walls were studded with enormous figures of humans and aumaua, made entirely of water. They glimmered in the morning sunlight. From the domed roof a waterfall poured, and it twisted in ribbons to either side of the door without letting a drop fall on the people passing to and fro.

“Ah, a traveler.” The voice was deep and cultured. “Come to see the pride of the Huana?”

Serafen put one hand on his hip to cover the other sliding to his knife. He wasn’t sure how many enemies she had and whether this was one. The speaker was an aumaua, more or less. Humanoid, true, but his skin and markings were unique shades of silver, and instead of hair he had a score of waving blue tentacles, rounded at the tips, like some playful coral. A godlike, favored of the ocean.

“I just wanted to see the sculptures,” she said. “I’m from a country that doesn’t have watershapers. These are…beautiful.” Serafen had never heard such an effusion from her.

Wigglehair looked immensely pleased. “A beauty to admire a beauty. The world is surprisingly circular, I say. A topic for another sculpture.”

Vailond raised her eyebrows. “You make these?”

“Not those specifically, but sculpture is my particular idiom. Have you been to the palace? The third pillar in the entry hall, the one where the stone only goes a quarter way up and a quarter way down?”

“With the strings of water making knots between,” she recalled.

“Moral Support. One of my subtler works.”

“I liked it.”

“Come, we should be friends. My name is Tekēhu. And yours…?”

“Vailond.”

She didn’t offer contact and after a very slight hand gesture he didn’t seek it. “You lead an interesting band,” he said instead. Serafen waited through the introductions. “And what brings you all to the jewel of the city?”

“We’re refitting to chase a god,” said Vailond.

His black eyes widened. “Truly! Ekera, I would not mind such a daring quest!”

Vailond scratched the back of her hand, a slight nervous tic. “Don’t you have a day job?”

“I live by the dictates of my muse, and she says I should spread my webbed feet. I can be useful. I know all kinds of odd things, and you’ll find I can keep my balance and climb very well. Among other…feats of skill.”

The smiling godlike raised his eyebrows in inquiry.

Vailond beat him to it. “Don’t you want to know what kind of captain you’re joining?”

“She has diverse friends. She loves art. What greater recommendation could there be?”

Vailond shrugged. “If you want. Welcome aboard the _Defiant_ , whenever that comes back.”

Tekēhu smiled. “The guild hall will be a welcome diversion, I say. Come. I can show you around the public galleries, and some less public ones. I think you have an eye for beauty. It must have drawn you to me.” Serafen was pretty sure it was Xoti who stifled a snicker, but everyone followed regardless.

*

Vailond felt a tug, the kind of thing she had learned to habitually ignore. The sense of a Watcher, or a listener. This time, she gave in, and her mind went to a black grotto under the water where lay a glowing anglerfish, its jaws open around its own sparkling lure.

“Be kind to my son,” said Ondra, called Ngati. “He has so much to learn.”

The vision vanished.

*

The guildhall eventually ran out. One by one Vailond’s companions had gone to other pursuits with the promise to meet up at the temple of Gaun at the third hour. Tekēhu walked Vailond through the well-tended streets toward the Sacred Stair.

That place rubbed Vailond the wrong way. It was an entire city district dedicated to worshipping that passel of frauds, the gods. In a very real way, anyone who knew what the gods knew and could do what the gods could do qualified as a god in her book, but it bothered her that they pretended they had some authority that people lacked.

The temple seemed like just a cracked stone door crowned in moss, leading into the mountain below Neketaka’s crawling surface. The pouring air was warm and sweet-smelling, a direct contrast to the brisk salt breeze. Eothas never could leave well enough alone. There was always something he wanted to transform. Magran seemed like a terrible god to impersonate, especially given their last major interaction, but sometimes Vailond thought he was trying.

The motley collection was there when Vailond and Tekēhu arrived. Xoti beamed at her. “The Temple of Gaun,” Xoti said reverently. “The oldest temple dedicated to this aspect of Eothas in the Deadfire.”

Edér stroked his beard, looking. “And nobody’s sacked it in months, looks like.”

“You do say the darnedest things,” said Xoti. “Come on, folks. Blessings for all.”

“I’m staying out here,” said Vailond.

Everyone must have felt the shift in energy. Vailond backed up a couple of steps. “You can find me when you get out.”

Xoti looked hurt. “But Vail…here’s where all the followers of Eothas can help us.”

“Tell you what. If you bring me one person who has spoken to Eothas since his return, I’ll listen. Until then, I’m not going in.”

Pallegina eyed her with open evaluation. “You’ve changed, my friend.”

“You know exactly why, aimico.”

Pallegina smiled. “I will stay with Vail.”

“I can watch out here,” said Maia.

“Not you, too,” Xoti said miserably.

Edér scooted out of the way of a hooded praying person. “There’s gonna be a traffic hazard if you ladies all stand out here at once.”

“Fine.” Vailond turned toward the big stadium that had been marked a temple of Magran. She wasn’t any fonder of Magran, but it’d be a place to sit.

Aloth, Edér, and Xoti entered the temple. Everyone else followed Vailond.

There was no shade over the stadium. Magran was a goddess of fire. Vailond watched the frantic duels and remembered the friendly sparring in the training yard at Caed Nua. She wasn’t much of a melee combatant herself. She hadn’t even brawled since becoming the Lady of Caed Nua. Tyrhos did the honors when necessary. The friends she’d made since Sun in Shadow had never seen her scrap; it was her crossbow or peace.

“Tekēhu?” she said.

“Yes, Vail?”

“Does your Queen know we’re talking?”

“Me? Ekera, no one told me I needed an ulterior motive.”

“Yes, but does your Queen know you’re here?”

“She has no such detailed knowledge of my comings and goings.”

“She does,” said Pallegina. “Believe me, the godlike are noted. I have served the Republic since my school days, and, ac, when they desire my presence, they know how to get it.”

“Practically a flare on your back,” said Maia. “At least my employers give me time off to piss.”

Tekēhu gestured dismissively. “The guildmaster fills my head with talk of my duty to my people, but she does not bid me hither and yon.” He looked around the circle and settled on Serafen. “What of you, my friend? Were you summoned here?”

“The Príncipi aren’t your average colony dictatorship,” Serafen said stiffly. “My captain bids and I do. Since I transferred to our illustrious friend’s crew, she bids. I do.”

“We all want the same thing,” said Vailond. “We need to catch up with Eothas at Hasongo, or find out where he’s going next.”

“I can’t believe I excavated his _bazzo_ ,” grumbled Pallegina.

Maia’s eyebrows menaced her hairline. “You care to explain that one?”

“The Republics are servicing gods now?” Serafen guffawed. “Now that I wish I’d seen!”

“I had no idea Eothas had carnal concerns,” said Tekēhu. “To build a cavern big enough…!”

“The statue was not yet him,” Pallegina said primly. “It had been built in caverns beneath Caed Nua….”

Vailond let Pallegina tell the tale. Yes, they’d seen most of this statue while it was still buried to the fingertip below Caed Nua. Vailond and her friends had fared to its lowest levels in claiming the keep for keeps. No one had ever expected anything could bring it to life and climb out.

“Shit,” Serafen said, with emphasis. “Captain, every time one of your friends opens their mouth it’s about some batshit insane thing you did.”

“There is a simple explanation for that,” said Pallegina, and winked her second eyelid at Vailond.

Maia looked thoughtful, an aspect that Ishiza more or less mirrored. “Ever think if you hadn’t killed Eothas at Halgot he might’ve stayed in a more manageable form?”

“I didn’t kill Eothas,” said Vailond. “I’m not even from the Dyrwood.”

“Aedyran accent,” Maia said coolly. “Checks out.”

“You never adopted the style of your transplanted country,” said Tekēhu. “A proud Aedyran, then.”

“Nah,” said Vailond. “Just a lazy one.”

Slowly, inexpertly, she brought the conversation around. Serafen, a shiphunter happy to answer any question with a lot of words around little information. Maia, who straight-up refused anything but the most general questions about the Royal Deadfire Company and her role in it. Tekēhu, who blithely ignored politics but professed innocent questions about where they were going. And Pallegina, who felt like she’d just been in the other room for a few years. One foot in the Republics, always, but one foot close by.

She hadn’t realized she’d stopped paying attention until Serafen tapped her elbow. “Captain. You stare at those fighters any harder they be liable to burst into flames, and think what that’ll do to their training schedule.”

“Sorry,” said Vailond, and, oddly, in this circle of near strangers, she meant it. “Did somebody say something?”

“We’d just agreed to refit the _Defiant_ in pink,” Maia said levelly. “Would you want rose or salmon for your bedsheets?”

 _cough_ “Crimson” _cough_ , said Tekēhu.

“I missed a significant change in subject,” Pallegina said drily.

“Captain,” said Serafen, now following her look down the stadium. “Some men down there are laying bets on single combat.”

“And?”

“You’re a singular combatant, if I don’t miss my guess.”

“And what makes you think I’m a fighter?” Vailond just shot stuff.

Serafen eyed her arm. “I suspect,” he said, “that you’d be a wildcat once you’re going.”

Four people of strong political motivation, watching to see whether Vailond could take care of herself. Not as the Lady of Caed Nua, not as the Watcher, but as one woman showing everyone she wouldn’t be beaten down.

Screw it. She’d take that chance.

“Vail,” said Pallegina. “Recall that you are on a schedule. We must depart in five days with or without your teeth.”

“What do you say?” said Serafen. “A friendly bout.”

One last objection, a big one. “In Magran’s name?” Magran, goddess of trials. Another fake.

“In Magran’s access to first aid. You lose points with the priesthood for asking but they do patch you up. Aren’t you curious? A fellow about your size.”

“We’re on about size now?” Vailond said drily.

“If the glove fits, Cap. You in?”

She stretched and thought about it. “Yes.”

“When do I hit him with the flat of my blade?” Pallegina said, sounding politely interested.

“All friendly here,” Serafen said warily.

“Relax,” said Vailond. “It’s just scrapping.”

“You may be Aedyran by birth,” said Pallegina, smiling, “but in your heart you are Dyrwood through and through. Let us continue.”

Tekēhu looked slightly revolted. “This is a pastime where you’re from?”

Maia observed.

The stadium narrowed down to a sandy floor, the temple of Magran. Serafen didn’t approach the priests or the other battling faithful. He just tossed off a salute and spun to face Vailond. Before she understood what was going on he had shucked off his vest and shirt, revealing a sturdy torso covered in the same blue fur as his head and beard. Cautiously he removed a golden chain with three gold coins from his neck.

She looked at all those grab points going away. “Oh, not fair.”

“No one’s stopping you from doing likewise.” He grinned. “Right, then. To the pin. Three, two, one.”

She crouched and waited for him to do something. He crouched and waited for her to do something. Apparently they came from the same school of self-defense. Well, the smartest fight to get into was the one you were starting. Vailond bared her teeth and charged.

He grappled her upper arms and slammed his forehead to her nose. The pain sloshed back through her head. This, this was feeling alive. She pressed hard, but he could meet her muscle for muscle. Well, there were other moves. She kicked exactly where one shouldn’t and was rewarded with an ugly grunt. She kicked him down and he grabbed her arms again before she could get to him. Again, for a few seconds, straight-up power faceoff. It didn’t break until she hauled him up and slammed him beside her, gaining just enough space to pin one arm. She bit the other forearm, hard, and he bucked and kicked. She slid up to straddle his hips, far enough to keep his legs from moving, then flatten herself against him to put a forearm to his throat while her nose dripped on his bare chest. “Down,” she growled.

“That’s as may be,” he murmured, green eyes ablaze.

She let him up and offered him a hand. He took it and tore her down, straining to get on top of her before she could curl up. In a second he had her on her stomach with one arm bent behind her back. A few angry shouts made it to her ears. The Temple regulars and possibly her associates, watching his cheap shot.

“Down,” savored Serafen.

“You bathtard,” she said. Her nose throbbed.

Serafen bared his teeth. “I never said uncle.”

People who visited her in Caed Nua did not behave like this. Something was shivering through the pounding of her nose. That something was laughter. “Dobe a bathtard even have ungles? I yield. Lebbe up.”

He tapped her wrist upon release as if to make sure it was all in one piece. She stood without his help, patting dirt away from her shirt.

“That were a kick in the teeth,” he said, beaming.

“I can brovide.”

“No doubt.” Oh, that mood wasn’t fading. “How’s your nose?”

“Still bleeding.”

“Broken?”

“Nah.”

“And the rest? Wish I could say I were well enough under control to keep from hurting you, but you’re actual competition.”

“I’m fine. How’s your junk?”

“It’ll live to swing another day. Thank you kindly for inquiring.”

She took a very steady two steps over to grab the jerkin, shirt, and coin charm. “Dobe forget your sirt.”

“Ugh, do you have any idea how a pelt of sand feels under clothes?”

Sand trashed pelts, but that was Vailond’s expertise in dead ones. “Barade if you want.”

Serafen was relaxed and smiling. “No hard feelings?”

“One ob dese days I’ng going to beat de shit out o’ you. Odderbise, none.”

“Guess I earned that.”

This was not the Lady of Caed Nua, nor the favor-trading Watcher. This was a spot of challenge for its own sake and an extremely entertaining case of backstabbing. It was Vail the way she remembered being, before everything started to explode. It was an aspect that served her less every day, and yet, it wasn’t gone. And this man brought it out in her, and it felt a hell of a lot better than thinking about politics and love.

Vailond did not salute Magran, and she did not smear her bloody hand across her cheekbones in devotion to Galawain. She just held her nose as they headed back toward the Temple of Gaun.

Pallegina fell in step. “Now can I hit him with the flat of my blade?”

“Are you kidhing? Tab was ‘reat,” said Vailond. “Son ob a hvitch.”

“Some people make conversation, not war,” Tekēhu said.

“I’ve no doubt she’ll get to it as soon as the bleeding stops,” Serafen said sunnily. Vailond punched his elbow.

“You fight dirty,” said Maia. “…Both of you.”

Xoti tripped out of the temple first. She looked cheerful. “Vail! – Oh, my Gaun, what happened to you?”

A number of racist comparisons to an animal came to mind. Vailond refrained. She let go of her nose. “I had to hbite Serafen here on account ob he’s a backstabbing jerk.”

Xoti was already close. Vailond jerked back, cautious, but Xoti didn’t seem to notice as she raised her hand and started soothing the pain. “What, did you bite his skull with your nose?”

“Just about,” said Serafen, rubbing his forearm and its round purple wound. “Right funny technique, but I’m just a simple sailor. What do I know?”

“Too much for your own good,” muttered Vailond. She laughed again. “Thanks, Xoti.”

Edér came out. He looked at Vailond. He strode to Serafen and seized him by the back of his neck. The lack of clothing there didn’t stop him.

“Vail.” He said it like a rolling boulder. “Tell me what I’m doing.”

“Put him down. I agreed to that fight.”

Edér digested that. “Sure. Uh, why?”

“…It seemed like a good idea at the time?” Xoti and Serafen snickered. Well, a good challenge had presented itself, and, well, she couldn’t punch gods, so….

Aloth stepped forward. “Please, let me.” He pulled out a clean linen kerchief and got close.

“A moment,” said Tekēhu. He waved one hand and a little sphere of water pulled itself together to hover over the kerchief and drop.

“Thank you,” muttered Aloth. “Vail, tell me when it hurts.”

No, Xoti had done well. “It’s fine.” Vailond leaned into every cool, gentle dab. His own expression promised a concerned lecture when he got her alone.

Edér released his grip. Some blue fur stayed stuck to his palm as Serafen rocked back on his feet and rubbed his neck. “Fine,” said Edér, “but I have news.”

“Your friend?” Ex-lover that put stars in his eyes?

“Yeah. Nice man in the temple says she moved to Hasongo a ways back. Isn’t that great? It’ll be right on the way!”

“Oh,” said Vailond. “I’m happy.”

“You think we can go after Zamar’s done? Soon, like.”

“As soon as there’s enough boat to go around,” she said. She didn’t know what to do with her face or hands so she went back to the comfortable blankness she used to use on everyone. If Edér noticed, he didn’t say anything. His mind was elsewhere.

She pulled Serafen aside as everyone was filing onto the winding street.

“Getting mad after all, Cap?”

“No. I was wondering if you want the job of first mate.”

Serafen stopped dead. “Hang on, just got hit in one ear by the ocean. Repeat that, would you?”

“I want you to be my first mate.”

“But, tall, blond and surly?”

Tall, blond, and thinking of other things. “I need a sailor, and this isn’t the first time he and I have discussed this.”

“Beat you up, get a promotion. What do I get if I’m nice to you?”

Her smile skimmed across her face and vanished. “Please find out soon.”


	7. At the Sign of the Wild Mare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond and friends new and old get a little down time in Queen's Berth.

With the _Defiant_ under work, the group went to the Wild Mare. Edér was about full to bursting with good fish and a certain sense that something was coming together here.

Vailond and Aloth were seated in a corner, armchairs drawn up close, leaning over a single book that appeared to be about Huana customs. Vailond’s mouth didn’t even move anymore when she read. And they seemed to be in their own world. It was nice to see that bridge finally fixed. He seemed relieved that she'd come down from brawling, and after all, their opposite styles came to rest like a pair of drowsy cats in these moments. After everything, Vailond was the only person alive Edér would trust to look after Aloth.

Serafen came down the stairs and headed out. Meanwhile Tekēhu was drinking like the fish he claimed to be. “What a fascinating woman!” he said. “Yet so subdued outside of battle. A creature of such striking hair should be a towering blaze in all things.”

“A forge burns hotter,” said Edér.

Tekēhu frankly sized him up. Edér was slightly taller. “An admirer?”

“A friend.” He gave it serious thought, and opted to smile. “For a long time now.”

“Come, how is it you came to travel together?”

“Luck,” said Edér. “She needed something same time I did. Here we are.”

Tekēhu looked around. “Is the Vailian beauty going to join us?”

Pallegina looked up from the slim black-sheathed book she was reading. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Ekera, observant and a rare beauty, I say.”

“Do you think you and I have something in common?” Edér tensed. Pallegina had iron self-control, but signs of the gods tended to strain her goodwill.

“Apart from a shining opportunity on the horizon? Perhaps not. Won’t you sit with us? Or is your book so enthralling it is responsible for the blush on your cheeks?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Have a seat, Pallegina.” Edér waved a barmaid over. “We’ll be sailing for a while. Let’s get the awkwards out of the way.”

“I wasn’t going to show _that_ on our first meeting,” Tekēhu said slyly.

“Ugh,” said Pallegina.

Serafen came down the stairs and headed out the door.

Pallegina brushed something off her puffed sleeve. She looked golden-eyed at Edér. “I meant to ask. Have you learned nothing from the Dyrwood?”

“How to whittle and spit at the same time,” Edér said reflectively. “Most of my arithmetic, too.”

Pallegina smiled. “No. Taking up with our Watcher friend.”

Edér’s eyebrows went up. “Seemed rude to let her die after she’d gone to the trouble of surviving Eothas.”

“Yes. Are you still his devotee?”

Edér set his ale aside. “I reckon he’s got a reason, and Vail’s gonna find it. Today, I can’t understand it. But pretty soon he’ll answer for it. I can’t finalize anything before then.”

“There are hundreds of—”

“Grim talk,” said Tekēhu. “Come. Perhaps a friendly game of Towers.”

Edér raised an eyebrow. “Is this getting psychological?”

“You tell me. I was only going to play cards. —Opposite me, Pallegina, please.”

She scowled at him. “You think that because we are godlike you think we should get along.”

“No. Because I expect you're good at Towers I think we should get along. Who shall be our fourth?”

Pallegina had an answer. “Maia. We require a player for Towers.”

Maia had been standing against the wall, watching the front door. Now she looked over. “I could ask Ishi but he might just eat the deck,” she said drily. “I was never much at— _what are you doing_.”

“Were that directed at me, lass?” Serafen came down the stairs and made for the door. “I thought I might liven up your watch a bit. Just how many routes did you notice?” He beamed and headed out the door.

Maia seemed to give up the conversation in disgust. “I’m not much for cards.”

“Exactly!” Tekēhu said cheerfully. “The perfect opponent!”

Maia rolled her eyes and whispered something to her bird. Ishi clacked his break and lumbered up the stairs, holding his wings above his back as if hoping for a breeze to push him up.

“Vail?” suggested Pallegina. Edér made a shushing gesture. Pallegina turned toward the readers. “Vailond? Aloth? Towers?”

The elves looked up. Aloth looked at Vailond. Vailond shook her head and looked back down to the line she had marked with her fingertip. “Another time,” said Aloth, diplomatic to the last.

“Xoti,” called Edér.

“Oh,” said Xoti. She and her lantern, inseparable as ever, were creeping down the stairs. She looked at the table: two godlikes and plain old Edér. “Well, all right,” she said, and scampered to take a seat.

Edér and Xoti winked outrageously at one another while the bidding began. Over the first trick Tekēhu eyed his hand. “Hmm…so close!” He held up his seven. His headworms waved and squirted three ink pips onto the card. “Perfection,” he sighed.

“Usually you do that where people can't see,” drawled Edér.

“Does it hurt?” said Xoti.

“No more than snapping your fingers. Ekera, such concern from such a rare flower as you warms the heart.” Xoti blushed. “Here is my play.”

They ignored the obvious embellishments and played. Then there burst a mighty squawk from upstairs, and, muffled by distance, “What the thrice-annual fuck-festival you bit my _knee_!” Serafen staggered down the stairs, followed by a ruffled Ishi.

“Trip on something?” Maia said mildly, and resumed her vigil on the door, now with 100% less head games.

“You know a bird that size serves ten,” spat Serafen, and limped to the bar.

Vailond hadn’t felt like this since Caed Nua, back before she’d earned it. She marked the page’s corner with her fingertip, stopping Aloth from turning to the next, and just looked around. Aloth’s look rapidly passed from curiosity to concern, then, as she jerked her head at everyone, understanding. He scanned the room and smiled at her, and then they settled down to read once more. 


	8. Intimate Requests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several questions are asked: Vailond bathes and looks for a friend of Remaro’s, Edér prepares to seek his former flame, Vailond asks Aloth a long-overdue question, Woedica has opinions, and finally, Vailond tries to get something from Serafen.

Morning. The Luminous Bathhouse: luxury in glimmering form. Tekēhu enjoyed it, early and often. Having designed one of the statues standing over the water was good for a steep discount.

He relaxed in the slightly adra-salt waters of the bathhouse. It felt thicker than fountain water, calmer than the ocean, more regenerative than the purest quaff. It was, in short, an excellent place to be.

The bath extended all the way down the center of the bathhouse, with little nooks carved out of the sides at intervals. He was in a nook some ways away from the freshwater feed where one might rinse if one didn’t like the luxurious touch of powdered adra. Seated, tall as he was, his head and shoulders were out of the water and he hooked his elbows back, relaxing.

“There you are.” Someone, hunched and uneasy, swathed in a linen towel, was scuttling toward him across the narrow finger of water. It was Vailond. She made desperately steady eye contact. “What am I not supposed to do here?”

“Piss,” he said. “Please, relax. Have a seat. Let the waters soothe you.”

She frowned suspiciously. Then she shrugged and let the towel fall in a heap just clear of the splash zone. She approached the edge of the bath as though expecting it to attack her. She crouched and trailed one hand through the water. Then, seeming to concentrate very hard, she eased her whole body in onto the bench and slouched to her neck.

Tekēhu eyed her unabashedly. Her brown tan covered only her face, neck, and hands; her body was fair-skinned. Not soft. A large knot of a scar puckered one side, and there were four or five smaller scars implying havoc over her chest, her hips, her thighs.

She was relaxing. “Warm,” she said. “So this is why people voluntarily bathe.”

“It is a rewarding habit,” he said, straight-faced. “Here. I can rub some of that tension from your shoulders.”

“Don't trouble yourself.”

He grinned. A palm-sized wavelet formed by her neck and rolled forcefully across her muscular shoulder.

She shoved at it and it flowed away. “No touching.”

“A dreary policy. You must admit, the water is very pleasant.”

She fixed him with a glare and started sinking. Past her mouth, past her pointy ears, she slid down until her red hair was a glossy little pad on the water's surface.

“Can you swim?” he inquired, suddenly concerned.

Vailond pointed at her ears and said something that was lost in bubbles. She did not come up.

“Ekera, you're an odd conversationalist,” he said.

The elf surfaced as gracelessly as a bottle cork. “Is there soap?”

“Ah, if you had warned me. For you, oil of roses and cherry blossoms—the best in Aedyr, no? Scented unguents for your shining hair—”

Something arced over his head and Vailond, wide-eyed, caught it.

“Finest lye in the Deadfire,” said Serafen behind him. “Lard, too, they tell me.”

Vailond was all business as she turned over the stained lumpy bar of prosaicness. “Hm. Thanks.”

“Haven't I ever heard that before,” he growled. “How are you enjoying Ngati's, ah, hospitality?”

“It's warm,” she said.

“No doubt.”

Tekēhu turned around. Serafen was fully clothed, and armed, and smirking. “Won't you join us, Serafen?”

“Are you joking? You get wet in there.”

“You’re a sailor.”

Serafen grinned. “A sailor in this much water without a hull in sight has made a terrible mistake. I’ll stick to admiring the light.”

“Did you want something?”

His green eyes strayed to the elf. “Apart from the view? Sure. That woman you met, the godlike. Your drylanders wanted a word.”

“Ekera, I’m not that effeminate.”

Serafen powerfully rolled his eyes. “Pallegina. Feathers, you might remember.”

“Pallegina,” Vailond said levelly. “Hm.” She sank in coiled calm, running soap up and down her molded frame. “I'll want to be clean.” The water bubbled, and Vailond massaged soap like war paint. Serafen took up study of his sidearm, and Tekēhu abandoned the water. Changes were afoot.

*

Serafen crouched at water’s edge. There were people in every state of dress in and around the long pool, with Serafen representing the fully clothed and Vailond…not.

She kept running soap over her limbs and shoulders. She met his eyes without the slightest hint of self-consciousness. He wouldn’t call it alluring but it was oddly pleasant to see. “Sorry I left you behind,” she said. “It was a nice morning.”

That wasn’t what she meant to say. There was something behind it. When he reached for her mind a spiky wall slammed him. She didn’t even seem to realize it. He could give her thoughts, but he couldn't read at will. He couldn’t see what was there, so he answered the surface statement. “Every morning’s a nice morning for a dip.”

“But what you told Tekēhu?”

Serafen grinned. “Ruffling his head-tails, that’s all.”

“Well then. Where do we start?”

“Where do we start what?”

“Looking for Udyne.”

“That’s my affair. And you have your Pallegina to meet.”

“She can wait a few minutes. Tell me what I can do.”

He sobered a moment, eyeing her pretty innocent face. “We are not turning this into indentured servitude.”

“Into what?”

“A favor I can’t pay back. That’s not me.”

“No. Serafen, you’ve saved my life and pointed out every nice location I’ve seen in this city. I want to do this.”

“Well.” He shrugged. “You might start with your clothes. I’ll work on identification.”

*

Serafen had indeed never seen Udyne in his life. Nor heard of her, for that matter. Now, though, with Remaro’s trail potentially fresh, he knew what to do.

He eyed the varied flesh of the bathhouse with little more than impatience. Then he started rummaging.

Was it the most sophisticated way to find the woman they called Udyne? No, absolutely not. But it was quick and many people wouldn’t notice. Serafen concentrated and jumped from mind to mind, seeking one with the right name. A person’s sense of identity was powerful to an experienced cipher.

A burly human in shiny breeches and no shirt separated himself from the crowd and made straight for Serafen. “You need to leave, raru.”

“Me?” Serafen planted his feet and stared up. “I was just deciding whether to—”

“Whether to begin rifling through our patrons’ minds? Our patrons deserve their privacy and you are not the only cipher here, raru. Leave. —If you seek to cloud my mind you’ll be missing some parts when we throw you out.”

Vailond slipped out of the crowd. Her clothes were clean and loose-fitting, her sturdy figure lost but for her coin belt between puffs of tunic. “Hm?” she said, eyeing the bouncer.

“Your friend here was just leaving. You’re free to leave with him.”

“Serafen? What happened?”

Serafen rolled his shoulders and inclined his head. “Nothing, Cap. A little quick search for the woman we want to see.”

“Ciphers are not to interfere with our patrons’ minds,” said the bouncer.

“They don’t even notice,” said Serafen.

“I ask for the last time,” said the human.

“Serafen,” said Vailond, “don’t. I’ll ask around. Is asking around allowed?”

“So long as it doesn’t bother our patrons. Your orlan must go.”

Vailond gave him the same look she gave people who addressed her as “elf.” “My friend will be going now. I’m taking a look around, all right?”

He was so close to answers. Bitterly he took the measure of the bouncer and walked outside.

*

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a woman named Udyne. I think she’s a regular, or she works here.” Why else would Remaro say she was likely to be there?

It was an orlan servant who peered at Vailond over a pile of towels and said, “She’s an older brunette elf. She usually sits in that corner,” she jerked her head. “I expect she’s there now, I just can’t see over this.”

Vailond took a golden suole and slipped it into the servant’s burden. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you very much.”

Udyne was dressed; she was just sitting outside the splash zone of the baths, looking at the shining water.

It was at this moment that Vailond realized she had no idea what she was getting into.

She sat beside the woman, elf by elf, and stayed quiet for a while.

“Pretty,” said Udyne, pointing at the adra-infused water.

“Yes,” said Vailond. “I have a message from Serafen.”

“That boy?” Udyne chuckled. “I’d not conne him from a barnacle, but I feel like we’re kin after all Remaro’s said. Wheret is he?”

“He got a little bit kicked out.”

“I see. But he sent ye.”

“More or less.”

“What is he to ye?”

“My crew,” said Vailond. “Maybe a friend, I don’t know yet.”

“Loyalty. He invites it. Remaro asked me to say, Serafen had better step looking. Remaro doesn’t want him to follow. I can’t describet how much he wanted Serafen to drop it.”

“I’m getting the impression that Serafen doesn’t take no for an answer. Udyne, this means everything to him. And I can’t have him on my crew until he’s seen to it, one way or another.”

“A pricious thing, to hold sich loyalty.”

“Please. I need this answer.”

“Oh, Remaro loved him. No. Remaro tredit me his galleon for mine clipper. He insisted that he needit the speed. He set sail for Sayuka. That’s everything I conne, for whativer good it does ye.”

“Thank you.” Vailond laid down another suole. “I don’t forget a good turn for my crew.”

When Vailond strode out into the battering sunlight she saw Serafen standing in plain view, polishing the barrel of one pistol. He looked up and smiled at her, and she knew all his will was bent toward not sprinting to her to hear the results.

“Sayuka,” she said. “And he really didn’t want you to know that.”

“I’m in your debt for taking sides, most particularly mine.” Now he was visibly tamping down a smile. “If we get the chance, Cap.”

“If we get any favors in that direction? Absolutely.”

“Thank you. You’re a sight more considerate than most naval captains.”

“Hm,” she said. “I have opinions.”

*

“Zamar says she’ll be ready tomorrow morning!”

The crew had taken over the Wild Mare and burst into even higher spirits when Edér announced it. Someone pressed a tankard into his hand.

Edér reached Vailond’s side in the whirl of conversations. “I’m really looking forward to this. When she left, we…that is, she didn’t exactly tell me where she was going next. I respect that. But it’s been a while, maybe things’ve changed.”

Vailond gathered, slowly, that “she” was not the _Defiant_. “Maybe,” she said listlessly. She’d really thought she was over this, but his enthusiasm stung in comparison to the stuff he didn’t have for her. “I can’t imagine anybody staying mad at you.”

“Elafa had spirit. Always liked that about her. If she wanted to stay mad at me she’d be mad.” He chewed his lip. “Sure hope she ain’t.”

“It’s going to be fine,” she told him. She said nothing cruel about what if she’s still mad, or sick, or passionately married to a man uglier than Edér. “I’ll get to see who caught your eye. Let her know how lucky she is.” She forced a smile. “Though maybe I shouldn’t talk.”

“I kinda assumed it would be just her and me most of the time.” Oh, yes, she bet. “But I will introduce her around. I want her to meet you.” The light here seemed to stroke his hair to brilliance, like she couldn’t. “I’m glad I’m getting to do this. After everything.”

“Then we’ll go straight to Hasongo,” said Vailond. Nothing about what might have happened if Eothas had destroyed the island. There were things it would only be cruel to say, and Vailond wanted to be as innocent of intentional cruelty as her friend was.

She got out of there. Fast.

*

“Vail. Vail?”

She was at a dead sprint now. Aloth had to restrain himself from casting something that would blind or hinder her. That was never for her. Instead he ran, giving himself tiny pushes of wind to keep up his speed.

She veered off into a garden. Aloth ducked in behind her. “Vail?” he called again. The path split three ways. They all looked the same. “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

When he chose a branch Vailond popped out from another. “Follow me,” she said, “if you must.”

Something was in her voice. He followed.

The path wound among tall, thick, dark green bushes spotted with red berries. It widened out to a little square with a fountain in the center. Not the Huana sumptuousness; still, not unpleasant.

She had been off since…oh, no use playing ignorant. She had been off since Edér had mentioned his old lover. The looks she gave the human, the quickness of her low-pitched laugh when he made jokes, which was often…her flat manner had a glimmer of texture when Edér was around. He knew from their behavior here in the Deadfire that something had been decided in his absence, and she struggled with it and he was doing fine. Aloth could shake Edér for what he was throwing away with both hands. But it wasn’t his business, and Vailond would feel insulted. She was proud.

There was a bench. Vailond perched on it. Aloth sat beside her, unsure whether touching would be met well. She was so strained, and he knew why, and he wasn’t the man who reduce her upset by word or deed.

“Have you ever been alone with someone?” he said hesitantly. “Tyrhos has always been there.”

“Or his sire, or sire’s dam or granddam.” She bowed her head. “Just so.” Then she sucked in a breath. “There’s something I need to…ask you. Give you, maybe.”

After the chaos of the week’s consultations he wasn’t sure what she had left to do, and he certainly didn’t want to be difficult about what remained. “I’m listening.”

She shut her eyes and opened them. Her voice started with the lightest breath and got steadily firmer. “This has been so…hard. Coming back to you, walking with you, fighting with you…I don’t know if I can go another day.”

She was leaning toward him. He froze, wondering if she was going to fall through him, startled when she nearly did. He answered her. He always had an answer for her. “If you mean I shouldn’t—”

She kissed him. She was savory and the little stirrings of her mouth on his felt like wonderment. It was a slow spell, gripping, perfect. She brought up her hands to cradle his face with tenderness undreamed of.

A moment, stunned. Another, lost. A third, fighting, and a fourth dimly remembering why.

He pulled away. He caught her hand on his face and slid it to grant her palm a reverent kiss. He had to give himself that much. He wanted this continuation of their years-long conversation, wanted their words to never stop flowing, wanted their mouths to never stop fitting.

“No,” he said, and tore his trembling hands from her rough fevered skin. The fountain had stopped.

She jerked to her feet. She whimpered, looking at him. Hurt was a sunrise in her blue eyes. He was not wizard enough to halt the day.

Her well-hidden heart wasn't excessively roomy, nor quick to change. He knew that. How long had it taken for her followers to land in her soul, a world away in Caed Nua? Did he seriously believe she had given up her last hunt in favor of this one?

Like a fool, like someone with self-respect, he said it. “You're in love with someone else.”

“I can't ever have him,” she quavered.

And she didn't understand, any more than he had been prepared for, the impact of her own admission. “That is deeply beside the point,” he said. “I am sorry. The answer is no.”

She looked lost, eyes glistening, as she studied his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

No. Because it was possible to claw your way out of the bitterest defeats, and do everything thereafter right, for _five years_ , and still lose. But he did not have time to articulate this. She ran. No stealth for her, nor watching where she went; she raced from the captive wild without the delay of examination, and he stayed to hold her kiss’s pressure on his lips without the ravage of examination. To him she was a steadfast friend, a brave leader, and a sudden potential. To her he was...what, available? It wasn't enough. Even in her hands, it wasn’t enough.

The fountain sputtered and resumed. Aloth turned away, struggling to compose himself. He was no better or worse off than he had been five minutes ago.

No.

* * * *

Aloth slammed into Pallegina as they came around the corner of the stair. Aloth, well-stuffed bag in his hands, bounced off. Pallegina stood, unfazed.

“Have you chosen today to find a real laundress?” she said, eyeing Aloth’s bag. “There is little time before we go.”

“No. Yes!” Aloth was squeaking. “Yes, I was simply…I’m not leaving, no. A simple walk. For laundry.”

Pallegina tried to guess what going mad looked like in an elf. Was this it? He was surely not doing what he claimed. “Let me accompany you. Clothing gets heavy to carry any great distance.”

“No, that’s quite all right. I don’t want to waste your time.”

Breath was seeping around every word, like he was forcing it out. “This must be very urgent.”

“A walk would be just the thing. Please. Let me go.”

Pallegina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You are a cautious man, aimico. You choose your battlegrounds carefully. Now what battle do you anticipate that you think you can better face away from the _Defiant’s_ crew? Serafen?” Aloth’s eyes were getting bigger, his cheeks redder, at every moment. “Maia? Tekēhu? I saw how the casità looked when she asked after you. She would side with you over them in an instant. So your quarrel is with Edér, which seems impossible, or Vailond herself, which given how she has always felt about you is patently absurd. Unless you joined another baby-de-souling cult in our absence?”

Vailond had never felt anything for him. Aloth tried to walk past Pallegina. “I don’t want to discuss this.”

“Calloste. This is not a discussion.” Pallegina raised one arm to chest height across the stairs. “It is an order.” He stopped, looking less angry than frightened. “If you leave Vailond she will die.” Finally, she had not only his attention but an indication that he wasn’t about to bolt. “Regardless of her desires, regardless of her failures. She needs you like a root needs soil. It may merely have been convenient at first, but now? It cannot be removed without destroying the plant. If you retain the smallest feeling for her, you must stay. And if you don’t retain that feeling, you are not the man I thought you were.”

“You are not a fool,” rasped Aloth. “I usually admire that. She won’t miss me here, Pallegina.”

“Did something strain your friendship? Is it unforgivable?”

“Were our positions reversed, she would not think it so.” Aloth’s mouth stayed open. “I’ve seen it. But I am not that strong.”

Pallegina crossed her arms over her chest. “You have your choice. I would miss you…and I meant every word I said.” She stepped aside. “Auret agori, Aloth Corfiser. Here we know your name.”

*

In the end, Aloth boarded with the others.

Vailond’s next concern was an assault. A hooded person burst from the Queen’s Berth crowd, shoved a heavy book into Vailond’s hands, and sprinted into the press of people.

She studied the outside as she followed her crew on board. Thick, bound in wood and leather then crisped black. The pages looked as though brushed with ash.

She had become a good reader and writer over five years as a Lady. In her room she knelt beside her bed and spread the book wide.

The damned thing yanked her head down and the next thing she knew she was on the pale platform, looking up.

At one goddess this time. The one with the fire-ruined face, the thin lips, the crown for the Queen That Was. Woedica. Berath had just about replaced her in the role of Vailond’s least favorite god, but this immediately looked like Woedica had retaken the crown. Literally.

“I thought we should talk,” the goddess said drily.

Vailond cast a quick look around. The pale platform started and stopped inches before and behind her. Around and above, red mists hung in swirls. The air was cold and still. The whole scene seemed to be made for someone else. The goddess herself.

Vailond made a face. “Run any good cults lately?” Woedica’s cult, the Leaden Key, had turned Vailond’s life inside out once already.

Woedica didn’t take the bait. Instead she rambled, for several minutes, about kith, the gods, and the need to keep society from destroying itself. Woedica felt that kith would tear each other apart if they didn’t have the gods to keep them in line. She spoke as if Vailond could change her mind on this.

And Vailond was having none of it. “Kith don’t need you!”

“When’s the last time you blooded an offering for Galawain?” Under a month, as she must know. Woedica’s thin lips stretched. “The gods are woven into your very being. If we could ever be sure you could survive after we left…why, then we wouldn’t need this conversation.”

“You can’t seriously say I’m your representative for whether the kith still need gods.”

“Oh? And why not? You seem thoroughly representative to me.”

“Look. Closer. I don’t even like people. My best friend has four legs and teeth the size of your knuckle. I almost told Berath to stuff it because I was hungry and tired.” The corner of Woedica’s mouth twitched hard. “There is nobody in this world who would look at me and say, I want her to decide my fate.”

“Ultimately, Watcher, I don’t care about your opinion. I do care whether you can salvage some order out of Eothas’s wake. Abydon himself could not have devised a more effective crucible, and I intend to use it.”

Fine. Vailond was feeling petty. “Hey. How do you feel about Aloth dismantling your Leaden Key?”

Woedica sneered. “A serpent without a head makes a poor pet.”

“Just checking.” Vailond looked around, at the misty red sky, at the limited platform. “Are you going to let me go?”

Something smacked her in the back of her head. When she opened her eyes again she was leaning over a book open to a pair of blank black pages.

*

Vailond stood at the bow, watching the horizon. The ship under her felt eager.

“You can tell the difference, can’t you?” Serafen was at her elbow, the first person to speak to her in a non-yell since Woedica. He never seemed opposed to being in her personal space.

“We’re going faster,” she said.

“Perfect. Can I beg a word? Private like.”

She eyed him curiously. He hooked his thumbs in his belt and stared back. He never seemed opposed to being in her line of sight, either. The confidence reminded her of Sagani, though Sagani never brought up confusing feelings.

“Come to my cabin,” she said.

Vailond’s cabin stood just before the main mast, with the bow rising behind it. It had a nailed-down table, a writing desk in one corner, then a space for her fold-down bed. She sat at the table and he sat opposite her. “It’s like this, Cap. What you did with Udyne? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

“It were a good turn. Thank you. I be in your debt.” He bowed, his eyes never leaving hers. “Now what exactly does that mean?”

“You’re my crew.”

“And?”

He seemed ready for anything. Something leaped to mind so hard it almost punched through her brainpan. She sucked in a breath and leaned into it. It would dull the pain. “This is going to sound insane.”

He nodded as though getting somewhere. “That so? Regale me.”

“I want you to convince me I’m attractive, and I want to keep it a secret.”

He didn’t laugh. “Really.”

She made sure she didn’t blink. “You asked.”

“I usually opt for the wordplay first, you know, though it may be you reserve your tongue for other things. Why me?”

Did that mean he hadn’t noticed their frequent contact? Initiated by him? “You’re attractive, exciting, loyal, and—you’ve never acted like you hate touching me.”

He searched her eyes. “I’m cleaning up someone else’s mess. Or proving something?”

She looked away. “It doesn’t matter. That’s what I want. No hard feelings if you don’t want to give it either.”

“Cap…I won’t be composing you poetic verse.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just be yourself.”

“You’ll have it, then. Mind you me, I know how to fill a double bed.”

“Just tell me you could want that.”

“Easy, Cap.” He stood and circled the table to stroke her jaw with the backs of his fingers. The contact slammed her days of solitude and nearly knocked the bitterness out of them. “Secret, hm?”

“Yes.”

“We’re in private just now.”

“Yes.”

He hooked her waist in one arm and kissed her. Slow and hurried, gentle and hard, they took second after second trying to reconcile styles from what contact she could make inside his bristly blue beard. It was, frankly, a mess.

His eyes were green like high summer when she broke away and clung to on his shoulders. “Was that horrible?” she said.

“I think we could do with more practice,” he drawled. “Nah. I’ve ‘ad considerably worse.” He shook his head slowly, chuckling. “Fuck anything scabrous lately?”

“What?”

“Safety first, Cap.”

“It’s been a long time, and he wasn’t scabrous.”

“What exactly be you wanting out of this? Flowers? Whatever jewelry I pulled off the last lady pirate we disagreed with?”

“Bed. Understand?”

“Completely.”

It turned out he wasn’t going to insist on the wordplay.


	9. Seven Scenes On Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the route to Hasongo, Vailond talks to her crew.

The escalation was rapid and messy and fun. Serafen played with a frank energy that left her feeling breathless and thoroughly appreciated. In point of fact, her entire face was sticky. Her legs were shaky even lying down.

And Serafen let out a breath, resting hot on her belly. “Now there's something we shoulda done two weeks ago. You all right, Cap?”

“Brain.”

He growl-chuckled. “I'll take that as high praise, my beauty.”

“Kiss me before you go.”

He leaned down and she caught him part way. She shied away from his tongue until he let her ease in to fit her lips to his, gently, still tasting of sex but relaxed now.

He backed off. “I don't cuddle. This…I ain't playing this for retirement.”

“I needed to get through the hour. It's fine, Serafen.”

“Well, then.” His eyes shone. “Wavemaking it be.”

She cast about for something to wipe her face with. Serafen produced a ratty handkerchief from his discarded shirt’s pocket. He offered it to Vailond. “Never start a mess, but always finish with one,” he said cheerfully, sharing a smile and reaching for his pants.

Vailond wiped, and wiped again, then pulled on her tunic. “This is a secret.”

His good cheer wavered. “Thought you were in it to prove something to someone else. Tell me true, is it my rank or my race you find so embarrassing?”

She tried to swallow a lump in her throat. Quickly, because she had to talk. “They—he—nobody's—I haven't—it's just—”

“Calm down. I'm not the man to criticize bad reasons, and you're a fucking wonder.”

“So are you,” she whispered.

“Well then,” he said. He looked around. “Let me show you something.”

He went to the corner of the room that was not dedicated to bed, writing desk, or table. He dropped to one knee and touched a floorboard. It released a bound set of floorboards, which he nimbly pulled up and dropped himself halfway through the floor.

“Since when was that there?” she squeaked.

“Probably since she was laid in,” Serafen said cheerfully. “Spotted it on Zamar’s refit. Goes to the ship’s stores. I’m leaving the way I came in, but if you hear three quick knocks, consider opening up. Have a very, _very_ good day, Cap.” He saluted and disappeared.

*

Somehow in a way Vailond would never afterward understand, she made it through supper with the crew without singing or making an obvious reference to the encounter she’d just had. Everyone was in high spirits, everyone looking forward to getting one in on the adra colossus. Battered by too many emotions, Vailond went topside. The stars were out. The sea was calm but for a ruffling breeze that toyed with the sails and brought clean air all along the deck.

She went to the rigging by the mast. Eld Engrim always got a tic by his eye when she got in the way, but Eld Engrim was not here, and this thick webbing could take her weight. She looked out to sea. She thought about all the things she didn’t want to see anymore. Gods, mostly. And what she wanted to see more of. Blue, for starters. They hadn’t disrobed much, as such.

“Vail!” Xoti had never asked to use that name, but use it she did. The slim priestess climbed nimbly up to hook herself in beside Vailond. “Beautiful night, ain’t it?”

Vailond shrugged. “I’m happy my friends are seeing the same stars I see. Mostly.”

“You’re a long way from home, aren’t you.”

“They tell me there’s not many people left there who would care about me. When Eothas came, he destroyed my house. My friends’ shelter.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I just hope I was worth it. I guess all your friends are just back at Port Maje, huh?”

“The Dawnstars? There are a few groups. I was sorry to leave mine…even with our differences, they were good people. But a Watcher following Eothas? I had to go.”

“You said you get nightmares about the future?”

“Yes. I don’t want to wallow about it. It just leaves me tired, sometimes.”

“Do you ever see other gods?”

“No, it’s mostly abstract. Gaun himself, once or twice, and it was wonderful. Not the others.”

“Oh.” So Vailond was special. She thought about confessing and decided against it. Vailond was in a strange place, and currents ran fast and deep here. She had to protect herself.

“It’s different, with us two. Isn’t it.” Xoti sounded dreamy, and she was staring at the stars.

“I guess. Is it bad that I don’t want us to have to clean up souls for a long time?”

“I understand. I don’t enjoy death. But all death is a path to rebirth, given the proper guidance. You can see them. I can help them. We’re better suited to this than any two people alive.”

“Still. I hope we don’t have to.”

“Maybe. Say, what’s your favorite constellation?”

“Me?” She thought about telling Aloth every constellation was a bear. Other places, other times. “The Hound. There, at the horizon. I don’t think it rises high here. You?”

“The Weaver. That’s her string, circling the direction of south.”

Vailond looked at the little pentagon and the harsh glowing X. “In the stories I was told, the Weaver cuts the thread after she’s woven a life.”

“Sounds about right.” Xoti shuddered. “I don’t know if anybody ever decided whether she’s an aspect of Berath or something…older.”

Berath. Never far away. “There literally is something older than gods. We know that now.” Was Berath listening?

Xoti gestured as if to dismiss such inconvenient truths. “But there’s one walkin’ anyway.”

Still, they talked, neither one exactly willing to try to go to sleep. The Hound set. They would make Hasongo around midnight tomorrow. They talked about waking hours where all the nightmares had names, and the wind held steady into the night.

*

A sideways heave sent Vailond reeling. In a just world she would be able to adapt by now. But they lived in a shitty world where gods dumped on her and decks kept throwing her around.

Pallegina climbed down from the crow’s nest. “Captain,” she said.

“Do you get extra godlike vision?” said Vailond.

“My eyesight is uncommonly good,” she said regally. The feathers sweeping back from her scalp waved in the wind. “I thought I would have a look around.”

“What did you see?”

She shrugged. “Water.”

Vailond edged toward the nice stable mast. “You seem really comfortable on a ship.”

“The Brotherhood has outposts everywhere. I served on an escort for two years early in my career.”

“Did you like it?”

“Do I have to? I was assigned, I went.”

“That must be hard. All the orders.”

“I was punished for rebelling once, by a god, no less. No, I stayed in line thereafter.”

“The Dyrwood went to war over the Glanfathans and the Republics. Something about trade.”

“I know. Due in no small part to my role. I preserved my career, but cost lives.”

“You’re not responsible for the war.”

“And if the Glanfathans had made it as far as Caed Nua?”

“It still wouldn’t be your fault.”

Pallegina smiled. The ship tossed again. Vailond dug her nails into the mast. Pallegina stayed steady. “You have rare ideas.”

“Are you happy coming out here?”

Pallegina crossed her arms over her breastplate and looked to the horizon. “I miss Tyrhos,” she said at last. “You always knew someone was watching over you with him there.” Her second eyelids closed and opened. “Two someones.”

“When this is over I’m going to find him,” said Vailond.

“Your other half. That is appropriate.” Pallegina nodded. “A wolf, though. Is it true, that you outlive them?”

“Elves live a long time by human standards. Wolves don’t.”

“Ac. Then we should finish this mission promptly.”

“I intend to.”

“It is not the same,” Pallegina said, with what Vailond could only call shyness. “But animals. When I was in school, the only godlike, the only woman. One day a merchant came with a box of chicks. The little yellow ones. He let us pick them up. They were tiny, and their hearts beat like they’d run a thousand miles to reach us. I thought they were beautiful.”

Vailond still didn’t see it, whatever ‘it’ was. Still, liking animals was something she could get behind. “They must have been lovely.”

“Until my classmates decided I was their mother. The asked me what chicken I had fucked to make these babies – a very pale one, no doubt. Other things, but that was the highlight. Something innocent and pretty, and they made it about my…looks.”

“Please tell me there was somebody on your side.”

“Not then. Later, there was an animancer named Giacolo who conducted research into the godlike…what made them godlike. I hoped he would tell me how it could be undone, and in fact he did remove the more extravagant signs.” She bowed her head and sighed. “I do not know where he is now.”

All this because the avian goddess Hylea had seen fit to claim a baby and give her the markings of a godlike. “If anybody, anybody, gives you grief about Hylea or any of it, tell me and I’ll punch their lights out.”

Pallegina smiled faintly. “I have no doubt. Fortunately most people are more intelligent than third formers.”

“Say the word. You want to get some chicks at the next port?”

“Nat. They tell me they don’t live very long.”

*

Vailond held the rope for Rum-Dumb Riggere as he did some complicated operation he called splicing.

“Steady hands,” he said. He had been chattering at the speed of his flask-drinking for over an hour. “You can always tell how good a sailor will be by the steadiness of his hands.”

“There’s got to be some job that’s okay.”

“Not a one. Deckhand, cannoneer, surgeon…all dependent. Ah, here. Done. Thank you, Captain.”

“Don’t rig it all in one place,” she said, and left him apparently deep in concerned thought about how to bring that directive about. Probably mean, but it served him right for drinking on the job.

Vailond left the poop deck. Maia Rua, the Royal Deadfire Company’s representative, backed against the railing to let her by.

“I won’t get in your way,” said Maia Rua.

Vailond stopped dead. “You’re not.”

“You don’t have to keep a five-foot radius when I’m around. Can I ask you something?” Maia was manifestly younger than Vailond – even aumaua lifespans were shorter than elven ones – but she had a brisk self-assurance that made Vailond feel like the less level head in the room. If she had come in the early days of the Lady of Caed Nua she could have been perfect. As it was, she mostly set Vailond’s nerves on edge.

“Cabin?” she said, pointing. Maia followed. Ishiza, her flying raptor, hopped along behind.

Maia ducked into the cabin. “I hope you don’t mind Ishi,” she said.

Vailond grabbed one of the gobs of dried meat she kept in her pockets. he dropped one next to the table. Ishi leaped to it and began to tear it between talon and beak.

“I am not going to ask why you had that ready to hand,” said Maia. “All right. Captain.”

“Maia. We’re doing best speed to Hasongo. I’m told you have an outpost there.”

“Understood and appreciated. Had a question I thought I should put to you first.” For the first time she looked a little uncomfortable. She brought up one hand to smooth her black hair in its bun. “What’s the chain of command here?”

Royal Deadfire Company, thought Vailond. This shouldn’t be a surprise. Maia worked for a military with some trading on the side. “Well, you have to listen to me and Edér and probably Serafen…and Aloth, definitely Aloth.” Maia’s expression was rising through grades of polite horror. “And the deck hands, if they’re giving orders it’s for a reason.”

“Am I in this…web?”

“You know ships, right? I don’t see why not.”

“Is Xoti in this web?”

“Nah, you don’t have to listen to her.”

Maia’s eyebrow shot up. “A real vote of confidence.”

“If Eothas listens to anyone here, it’s got to be her.” Vailond shrugged. “But she’s no sailor.”

“Funny, I would’ve said all that about you.”

Blunt. “When I hear from Eothas you’ll be the first to know.”

“You’ll be yelling it across your five foot distance?”

“Yep.”

“But seriously. Do you have a formal chain of command? Because ships don’t get far without one.”

“Serafen’s my first. Edér’s probably second. Beodul’s the bozzen (‘boatswain’ is a shitty word to pronounce) and you’d better listen to that. And it’s not written down, but listening to Aloth is always a good idea. As long as he says it in the Aedyran accent.”

“In the…? You’re making this up as you go,” said Maia. “If you don’t want to answer… if you _can’t_ answer….”

“Me, Serafen for anything about the ship, Edér. The others can go through me.”

Maia looked unconvinced. “Like you say,” she said.

“Are you going to write something snide about me in your notebook?” said Vailond. She was feeling a little miffed at the chain of command disapproval, but she was also curious. Even Aloth didn’t spend all his time taking notes.

“I am never snide,” Maia said calmly. “Just ask Ishi.”

Vailond slipped out another knuckle of dried meat. Ishi flapped up to catch it in mid-arc.

“Again, with the why do you even have that,” murmured Maia, scratching Ishi behind one ear.

“My companion was a wolf,” said Vailond.

The look on Maia’s face then did more to establish her worth than any amount of note-taking for the Company. “Was,” she echoed. “I’m sorry.”

Vailond waved aside. “I’ve gotten used to it.” The tears behind her eyes flared for the first time in days. She ignored them.

Maia was staring at her. “Seamanship wasn’t your first career, was it?”

“It’s the one I have. Is there anything else?”

Maia frowned. “No. Thank you, Captain. Oh, one more thing. If we pass through Port Maje any time soon, there’s a message I need to deliver.”

“We’re going back to Port Maje,” said Vailond. The instant she had her soul back. She would see Tyrhos again.

“All right. Thanks.”

Vailond watched her stand. Then, she couldn’t resist. “If you think you can use me to get insight to the Príncipi or just about anyone else, I can’t help you.”

“I noticed that.”

“Fine. Talk to you later. We’ll need you for chores, I’m afraid. I mean, me too.”

“Every ship does, believe me.”

“Okay. Good.”

“It’ll give me something to do while I’m not gleaning Príncipi insights.” Maia waited.

“Uh, dismissed,” said Vailond. She was relieved when Maia didn’t salute, then wondered if relief was the right response. But the aumaua was gone.

*

Tekēhu knocked at the cabin door. It stood over the deck, just under the bow, and Vailond had spent quite a lot of time in it in their admittedly short voyage.

He smoothed back his tentacle hair and waited for her.

She answered. She really was small even for an elf, though built for durability. “Hi,” she said, as though that were a complete sentence.

“It is a beautiful day on the water, I say.” She was looking him up and down as he spoke, a curiosity too bare to be very flattering. This was not a flirt. “Perhaps you would walk with me around the deck?” She hesitated. “Unless you are too much enamored of a fold-down bed.”

“It goes up. It goes down.” It was hard to tell whether that was humorous. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Talking is not what I had in mind.” Vailond backed up a step, glaring condemnation. “Ekera, it’s not what you think! I just wanted to show you how I can contribute on your journey.”

“I’m not asking you to push the ship. I don’t want to burn you out.”

“Or drown me. Appreciated. No, I will not move mountains of waves unless it becomes necessary. But there are other uses for a watershaper.”

She stared at him until he regretted having asked. Definitely not a flirt. Then she stepped out and silently closed the door. “Where are we going?”

He brought her to the shadow of the main mast. He leaned out over the water, feeling the pleasure as certain as sunlight and infinitely more playful. “Look,” he said. He lifted a hand. Shapes started swimming out of the passing water, arcing first as lumps in the waves, then distinct narrow waves in their own right, then leaping shapes, as bright and eager as dolphins, sparkling and nuanced in texture.

He raised one of them out of their stream to rise to the level of Vailond’s eyes. She stared, thoroughly lost to outside concerns. He could gladly hold that moment forever. Instead he flourished with one hand and the dolphin-wave swirled to a sphere and burst like a firework.

Vailond peered over. Her mouth, so often set in a flat line, was a little open, her businesslike short hair tousled by the wind. This was the inside of the Watcher's shell. He brought one dolphin up to the level of the gunwale and into a playful twirl. Vailond reached for it, and when she touched its blunt nose he burst it into a shimmering little splash.

She turned her attention at once to him. “That’s your _job_?”

“The fun part of it, I say.”

“I never met anybody who had a job like that.”

“Does the Dyrwood not have art?”

Her nose wrinkled up. “Portraits of miserable people in ugly clothes.”

“Most of the community decorations tend toward executed people.” It was Edér, putting a wry smile over tragedy Tekēhu could sense as well as the Watcher might. “Tends to come in fits and starts.”

“I hope the islands have been kinder to you,” said Tekēhu. Edér was an unknown quantity, but not an uncivil one. Vailond’s flat affect eased around him. Him, Aloth, and Pallegina, the triad of Vailond’s loyalties.

“Haven’t seen a hanging tree yet in the Deadfire,” Edér deadpanned. “Vail, Xoti’s having some trouble with Irrena’s knee flareups. Can you lend a hand?”

“A healer, too? Ekera, you have many talents.”

“I bandage pretty good,” said Vailond. “That’s all.” Her voice unbent a bit. “See you, Tekēhu.”

*

“He’s taking the first mate thing seriously,” said Edér.

Serafen had taken the front door in and out that afternoon. Even as Vailond finished re-seating her crossbow string, she looked up and saw Serafen talking with a deckhand on the rear deck. He caught her eye and slowly drew a finger to his shoulder, which she had bitten probably harder than necessary.

“Anything I need to know about?” pressed Edér.

“Oh, not really.” It wasn’t about Edér. She wouldn’t have comprehended that scarcely a month ago. But his pedestal had been vacated. Forcibly. “It turned into a big talk about branding stuff anyway.” Then, because it was expected, “It can be hard to keep him on topic.”

“Say the word and I pin him to a chair until you’re done talking.”

Vailond giggled. “Not necessary.”

He nodded, then pulled out his pipe and his little bundle of leaf. “You’re holding up,” he said. “I’m glad to see that.”

“It’s not all hell,” she said. “I mean, Tyrhos… and Caed Nua… but, I don’t know. I like these people. I’m so miraculous the gods are listening to me.”

“God-s? You mean Eothas. And Berath, you mentioned.”

“…Oh. I didn’t tell you about the rest, did I.”

He lit, keeping one eye on her. “The rest of what?”

Vailond told him about the councils of gods, about Woedica’s book, about how Vailond was supposed to justify everybody. About everybody being okay with smashing a moon into Eora to stop Eothas if Vailond didn’t do it.

“You’ve just been sitting on that?” said Eder, his pipe hovering forgotten at the corner of his mouth.

“What was I supposed to ask you to do?”

“Not make you take it alone. I don’t know.”

“I understand. I do. I’ll tell you if they change their tune.”

“Have to admit, it scares me a little that I didn’t see you were hiding something that big.”

“Nobody’s making you try.”

“This isn’t the Dyrwood. And you’re nobody’s Watcher, except some gods. I know that.” He seemed to remember the pipe. “But I still care about you.”

“I’ll keep you updated.”

“Well, good.”

The feeling of not needing to please him fizzed in her heart, but at the same time, she needed to put something else between them. Misdirection. Her heart’s first question. “How’re you holding up?”

“As second mate? Pretty well, actually. Gotta admit, I don’t always understand what’s going on here. Can I ask you about Aloth?”

“We disagreed,” she said. About Edér, but wild aurochs could not drag the reason out of Vailond. Aloth understanding her hopeless love for Edér was nobody’s business, possibly including Aloth. “I asked him for something he didn’t want to give. Honestly I’m surprised he didn’t leave…we’ll make it normal. I promise.”

Edér examined her face, unsmiling. “One of these days you’re going to find the man smart enough to say yes.”

“I think I’m tired of looking. Please, don’t push this.”

“Understood.”

Ah, a change of subject. “What about your friend? We’re getting close now. There’s people who put down roots and people who move every few weeks. What kind was she?”

His ears were reddening. “Well, she left once. Maybe she’s a single-move kind of lady.”

“I hope so, Edér.”

“If Eothas came walking…”

“Don’t. I won’t let him.”

“Wasn’t aware you gave those orders.”

“I just won’t let him, okay? We’ll find her.”

“Well, I know better than to tell you different.” He winked and returned to his neglected pipe. Vailond smiled at him and moved on. She had to practice doing that, sooner or later.

*

Sunset spread before them like they were bearing into the wrath of gods. That might be factually correct. Vailond didn’t know yet.

She had finished the paperwork to be implemented when they returned to Neketaka. She didn’t enjoy supply and labor number crunching, but she’d gotten plenty of it at Caed Nua and she did like the control. Her household was a ship, her servants sailors, her supplies prone to far more than the winter, but it felt the same. She finally finished and went out on deck. Sunset bled; the sea’s surface gleamed red in the lee of every wave.

“Do you see something we don’t out there?” It was Aloth, standing uncomfortably a pace away.

Gods’ wrath. “No,” she said.

“You just seem to like the view,” he said.

She turned away from the gunwale. He stood there, handsome, anxious. He’d kissed her back. Just for a moment. Hadn’t he? What game was he playing, and why couldn’t they put it aside? “Did you want something, Aloth?”

His cheek twitched. “I thought we could talk.”

“Really?”

“Don’t we need to?”

“I’m sorry,” they said.

“No, don’t be,” they said.

“It was nothing,” he said. “It was too much,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “Right, nothing,” she said.

“We have to—” they said.

Aloth raised a hand for quiet. Even under the desperation of his pale stare he managed to twitch a corner of his cleanly carved mouth. “I want to help,” he said.

Without touching or wanting her, withholding it for no real reason she could see. She swallowed. “Fine. Eothas?”

“Eothas. I can be useful.”

“Okay. Good talk.” She started walking, looking for anything that would require all her attention.

“Ye conne that he’s hanging by the skint of his tythe,” his voice said loudly behind her.

“I give him what he asks for. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.” She wasn’t sure whether she was addressing Iselmyr or Aloth, but she cleared out before she had to learn. What strain did he have to be under to let Iselmyr slip outside their agreed-upon outings? Vailond thought about the air cold on her own lips as he pulled away. She didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Serafen, people are still going to notice.  
> 2\. I enjoy that Vailond thinks she's not giving anything about herself away if she just avoids talking about gods.


	10. Forwarding Addresses; A Royal Summons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vail and her crew investigate the silence of Hasongo. Edér gets a direction to go in. Vailond returns to Neketaka and gets an unpleasant welcome. Pallegina points the way.

After midnight and the seas were rough. They were navigating on compass and the strained eyesight of six scouts. Hasongo was upon them from the heave of a high wave. They swerved as best they could and barely cleared the rocks. Above them squatted a dormant lighthouse. To left and right were fortress walls. Parts of those lay in ghastly gray ruins.

Much of the crew had united in favor of staying on the ship. At the crack of dawn Vailond took the daring: Edér and Aloth, naturally, but Pallegina too, and Maia and Tekēhu and Serafen.

There was still a dock, and they tied off. “I don’t like this,” said Maia. “There was a full Deadfire Company garrison here.”

“Someone fixed that right up,” said Serafen.

They were nearing the ruined gate when two…things… _slithered_ …down to greet them. Blue. Strapped with metal armor plates. They were monstrous snakes with arms and weird heads. They were taller than Vailond was. She shrieked. Nothing on this Eora should ever look like that.

They came on, charging. Maia, Serafen, and Tekēhu had them mostly dead before they even reached Edér’s shield.

Vailond forced her hands to her sides. “What are those?” she squeaked.

“Naga,” said Tekēhu. “An unfortunate infestation at the best of times, though they don’t see it that way.”

Vailond’s hands shook as she gestured. “Snakes should be this big. Tops.”

Another two rounded the corner. Vailond screeched. She couldn’t help it. She aimed and ended up shooting, hands shaking, off to the right. “Kill it,” she howled.

Aloth battered them in place while the others fired.

Then everyone was staring at her.

“Uh,” said Edér. “You okay?”

“Those things are huge,” she said. Her pride started whimpering accusingly in the corner. The remainder of her headspace was slithering nightmare. “Why did anybody make snakes that big?” She fumbled her crossbow. Her hands were shaking.

“This happen often, does it?” said Serafen, but if he was amused he was keeping it to himself.

“Vailond isn’t afraid of anything,” said Aloth. “At least, anything normal.”

“Ekera, it is no shame to be revolted by the completely unknown,” said Tekēhu. “But now you have faced some. There is nothing further to fear.”

Vailond pointed past him. “ _More._ ”

They, meaning everyone but Vailond, killed three more. They moved up into the keep, and into a tower base that still had an intact door.

“Good place to shelter,” said Maia. “Let’s see what did so.”

Inside the tower were half a dozen wounded Royal Deadfire Company soldiers. Their leader fully admitted to letting the naga have the fort. They’d come in strong and the Company hadn’t brought their cannons to bear fast enough.

“And if you’re smart you’ll stay here until they’re done, “she finished bitterly.

“I can guard this place,” said Vailond. “Edér….” Then she let them go.

She spoke with the Royal Deadfire people. They weren’t here to fight. They were as miserable as she felt. She waited for minutes, then hours. No sign of Elafa, then. Were Vailond’s friends dead, strangled by that army of snake people? Shouldn’t she go check on them?

“Get trapped in your own munitions depot often?” she said miserably.

Finally the door opened. Vailond had her crossbow ready, but it was Edér, looking strained. “The way to the lighthouse is clear,” he said. “I didn’t want to get in range of the adra without you.”

She swallowed. “Thanks.”

She came out among her friends and started the grim hike. Giant footprints, crumpled dead naga, Rauatai aumaua laid out straight with their hands crossed over their chests. The garrison would have to bury quickly. Still, Vailond followed her crew to the lighthouse.

“I can take the door,” said Edér.

No. She needed some pride.

*

Pallegina watched Vailond while they moved. She climbed the island like it was another Burial Isle, with another Sun-in-Shadow awaiting her. The naga must truly have awakened nerves everyone thought the Watcher had burned dead a long time ago. It was shameful…then again, had Vailond not spent enough time being hard enough?

She would not accept help, and so Pallegina did not offer any. Instead she studied the kith-made structures: Hasongo had been a fortress, and from what Pallegina had seen on the way here, it was possessed of enough black powder to destroy the bottom half of Neketaka. No wonder the RDC hadn’t wanted to ask for help. No wonder they sent someone ahead to minimize the damage. Had they told Maia what to expect? Or was she going in as blindly as the Republics had sent Pallegina?

Well, Pallegina had learned to operate with uncertainty. Pallegina observed everything.

Vailond seemed anxious to make up her disgrace. In five years, Pallegina doubted she had been afraid of anything else. It was uncomfortable to see her afraid now.

They reached the base of the lighthouse. It was a squat, sullen-looking thing, with a great keyhole window out toward the sea and nothing shining through. Any light short of a bonfire would be swallowed in such a device. Vailond passed Edér to lead the way in.

“Whoa,” Pallegina heard him say. The man was blocking the view, but he could only mean naga. “We can get rid of him.”

“More humans, more aumaua,” said the Naga, putting a lot of throat-gurgling into the words. “You will not have the—"

The distinct little clip of the crossbow. The naga did not speak again.

“That worked,” said Vailond. “All right then.”

The party filed into the lighthouse. Inside there was no platform, no lamp, no brazier. There was just a round tower of mortarless white stone centered on dull pillar of adra that was crowned with obscure machinery. Vailond darted up onto the scaffold where the naga had collapsed. She planted her feet athwart its tail and leaned to press one palm against the adra.

“Now we wait?” Edér joked.

“A necessary skill around Vailond,” Pallegina said dryly. “Sometimes I wonder whether she is not simply napping while upright.”

“I could try to tip her,” said Edér.

“Edér!” Aloth looked horrified. “You do not know what that will do!”

“Do you?”

“Consider the likelihood that it will do some good. And the likelihood that it will shock her to some place we cannot follow.”

“Relax, Aloth. Nobody’s going to shake her out of this.” Edér eyed her appraisingly. “At least, not if she comes back in good time.”

Serafen watched her with equal appraisal and less affection. “You can tell me it’s normal, but you can’t make me believe it. She just stands there?”

“Yep,” said Edér.

“This is luminous adra,” said Pallegina. “It is powered and enriched by souls, hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, depending on its age above the surface. It is a stopping point on the way to the Wheel of reincarnation, some say a trap before it is attained. A Watcher would have her choice of souls to examine.”

“They told you all that, did they?” Maia spoke at the loud end of murmuring.

“Did your handlers fail to apprise you of this?” said Pallegina.

“Oh, no, I’m fully apprised. I just wasn’t expecting our Watcher to find it so…absorbing.”

Edér’s cheer was wearing thin. “Come on,” he whispered. “Come on, you can do this.”

“She has had five years to hone her control,” said Aloth. He seemed to be trying to convince himself. “She’ll pull herself out if she has to scan the entire contents to do it.”

“I see,” said Tekēhu. “Every time I feel I understand her, she reveals another layer. Or a carapace.”

“You mean that like a compliment,” Edér said coolly. “Me too.”

Vailond staggered backward. Pallegina stayed put because she knew that some combination of the strapping men around her would help her out of it. And Serafen did.

Vailond’s eyes snapped open. “No!” Spittle flew. “No, no, no, it’s mine, give it back!”

“Vail!” said Edér.

“Your soul?” said Aloth.

“Eothas,” said Pallegina.

“Context?” said Tekēhu.

“He’s going to the Ashen Maw, in Magran’s Teeth,” said Vailond, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” said Serafen. “The good news, nobody’s alive around there to get stepped on. The bad news is, nobody stays there alive long enough to get stepped on.”

“If he’s walking the ocean’s floor, we have time,” said Aloth.

Vailond wiped her mouth. “He gave me back some of my soul.”

“Enough for Tyrhos?” said Edér.

She gave him the old we’re-a-team look. “I don’t think it’s enough, but we’ll check again when I have what I want out of Eothas.”

“Right, then,” said Maia. “I’ve got a hard report to write.”

Pallegina eyed her. “Don’t we all.”

*

There were already people at the docks, braving the harsh morning sunshine, staring at the _Defiant_ and slowly working their way up to repairing the fortress. There was one boy in particular, filling a bucket of seawater for no clear reason.

“Her nose,” muttered Edér. “Hey! Friend!”

The boy was maybe fourteen, gangly and brown-haired. “Light of Eothas be on you, neighbor. Are you looking for survivors?”

Vailond kept her mouth shut. This was Edér’s question. The first thing the man did was haltingly ask about the boy’s father. The boy had one, that he remembered, that was not Edér. Vailond let out a deep breath. Well, good. She wasn’t sure how anybody would have coped with Edér discovering a love child.

Good: The boy named Bearn was a gentle, pious, good-natured guy. No Edér, but then, who was? His father had existed and wasn’t Edér.

Bad: His mother had died of influenza several years back. Vailond had no way to intervene in Edér’s late but whole-hearted grief.

Ugly: He had no mother, no father, and a heaping helping of Shining God this, Shining God that. One Gaderian Bosc of the Partisans of the Lighted Path had filled his head with claptrap about following the Shining God’s banner to blah blah and die. Vailond considered kidnapping the boy there and then, but she followed Edér’s lead, and all he said was “We look him up at the Temple of Gaun.”

Looking at the pain in his eyes then, she would rather be facing naga.

She ran back to the tower where the Royal Deadfire survivors were pulling themselves together. “Alcohol,” she said. “Hard. Lots.”

“Leave some for us,” muttered one.

“Your crew got us out,” said another…and pulled a large rectangular bottle from under a table. “Just don’t spill it on anything you’re fond of.”

Vailond sniffed it once. Perfect. “Go in strength,” she said, because asking a god’s blessing would be a serious backslide.

They cast off and moved out to the uncertainty of the clouded morning. Serafen tagged her for later, a small hip tap, enough to find an excuse to be alone. Vailond cradled the rum she had gotten and hesitated.

The ship did not offer privacy. Apart from the passage between cargo hold and captain’s cabin there was simply no way to hide one’s movements. And sleeping quarters? Four bunks in a room, and two people shared one bunk on shifts.

Except for Edér and Aloth, who each got a dedicated bunk in a room where the Steward was installed. It was here Edér presumably was. Vailond made it as far as the hall and stopped.

Then Aloth was at her elbow. “I’ll take care of it,” he said.

She tried to imagine three hours of listening to Edér reminisce about his old lover. “Okay,” she said. “This stuff is officially allowed by captain’s orders.” She handed him the bottle.

His eyes widened. “You’re not expecting him to drink the whole thing?”

“Don’t let him. Thanks, Aloth.”

“Rest well. It’s been a trying day for all of us.”

*

Serafen kept a downright chaste distance on deck. He just smiled at her, and when their paths crossed he touched her, often a playful punch, rarely a brush to more sensitive areas. In every conversation he would let drop a double entendre and watch her, waiting for her burst of shock or laughter.

It was very obvious that they got along.

The trap door in her quarters was known to most of the sailors just from chatter in Zamar’s work, but it was widely known that she’d knifed Rum Dumb Riggere’s hand when he tried to open it. That was hard to explain to the other drylanders without revealing the door itself. Serafen was cheerful when he revealed that the sailors kept a lot of things from the drylanders.

She stared at him in what she hoped was a charming manner. “You have to tell me what they know.”

“I need them to trust me, Cap. Can’t do that if I’m spilling to you.” His smile reminded her of a shark.

They noised about that he was teaching her the finer points of navigation equipment, and backed this up with public sextant lessons on deck. Rarely, too rarely, every day or two, they had wild, messy sex. He left before the afterglow had faded. It was the perfect antidote to the poison of indifference in her life. It was good to be wanted. Just once, or twice or three or four times, to be wanted.

*

Queen’s Berth was the best kind of dry land. No naga here. Land that stayed still. Pallegina filled Vailond’s ears with welcome stories of Vailian misadventures while Vailond trotted around buying the little luxuries she liked to get while in port. They headed back to the dock to see two burly aumaua standing at the gangplank. A little rope had been strung between.

“What’s this?” said Vailond.

“Your ship has been impounded by order of Queen Onekazu II,” orated one guard.

“For what reason? That’s illegal!”

“By order of the Queen,” the guard emphasized. “That’s the definition of legal.”

“Get a better dictionary.”

The man stuck a pike in her way. “No admittance. The Queen requests and requires your immediate attention in the palace.”

“Fuck that,” said Vailond.

Pallegina stooped to whisper. “There are three more guards at the end of this dock. They will hear.”

That changed the calculations. Vailond considered how much of her crew might be good in an actual battle, then how many guards the Queen had in Neketaka.

“Fuck that,” she muttered sourly, and turned away.

“Oi! Captain!” Vailond turned back. Rum Dumb Riggere was on deck looking shaky. “Say, why the guards?”

Vailond let them explain.

“You’ll have to come off the ship,” finished the guard.

“Captain? This true?”

“Today it is,” grated Vailond. “Stay by the docks. Warn the others. I’ll be checking the Wild Mare when I’m done here.”

“Oh, you can buy near anything at the Mare,” Riggere said sunnily. “I’ll just be on my way, then!”

The guards looked at Vailond. Vailond snarled and walked.

Pallegina walked at her side, feathered head held high. She had once told Vailond that she hated the attention, the stares, the whispers…but she would take them proudly or not at all. Vailond’s distinction only showed up as walking into things mumbling, and she could control it most of the time. Pallegina was an avian godlike from dawn until dusk and through the night.

“Shall we gather the officers and near-officers for Serpent’s Crown?” said Pallegina.

“What? Hell no. I’m not going to talk to that dictator until she releases my ship.”

“Ah.”

“I would charter somebody else’s boat only we can’t afford it. We can try to slip out tonight.”

“Please do not kill the city guard.”

“Rough them up a tiny bit and drop them in the ocean?”

“Inadvisable. You know that.”

“What’s it like, being a voice of reason?”

The near corner of her mouth curled. “Stressful. —No. Listen to me. This is painful, but it may serve some use.” Even as they walked, Pallegina walked straight up the rising road. Vailond was half a step toward the Wild Mare herself before she realized the change and fell in step. Pallegina could look at her, barely, while keeping her head up. “Queen’s Berth will not be friendly while this dispute lasts. We may find shelter in the Gullet.”

“An inn?”

“A district. I have heard it described as a chasm of rot and desperation beneath Serpent’s Crown.”

Vailond opted not to ask her what a chasm was. She valued Pallegina’s respect. “But it would have a place to stay?”

“That is the reason I know of it. There is an animancer I knew once, named Giacolo.”

“You’ve talked about him. He did research about godlike people.”

“Yes. He was kind to me. I have heard that he stays in an inn in this Gullet. Perhaps, while we are trapped here, we could seek to meet him.”

“You know you’ve never talked about anybody from the Republics?”

“He was…important, to me. At a time when I had few friends and fewer friendly authorities.”

“Let’s find him, then. He’d be happy to see you.”

Nobody in the inn charmingly termed the Hole knew anything about anything, apart from a few cryptic statements about finding additional districts. With the day waning Vailond went to the common room for dinner. Pallegina was not in a talkative mood. Neither was Vailond. They drank, and they sat.

Serafen and Xoti sauntered and crept, respectively, in. Good, so Riggere and been both present and sober enough to point them this way. Vailond greeted them and they shared a late dinner.

Upstairs Serafen paused, testing a floorboard. “I don’t like the way this floor slopes,” he said conversationally. He started slide-stepping down the hallway and around the corner. Vailond, making sure to look concerned, followed.

She didn’t laugh. “Are you seriously critiquing architectu—” he had her locked in his arms, tongue pushing, totally heedless for one scorched moment.

“Couldn’t wait,” he murmured.

“No!” shouted Pallegina.

Vailond bucked hard until Serafen let her go. She ran around the corner, already losing the moment. “Pallegina?”

Pallegina stood in a doorway. Beyond her there was an ordinary-looking bedroom. Only…as Vailond got closer and got view of the floor, she saw chaotic heaps of partly burned paper. Pallegina took three steps in and picked up a distinctive red leather flap. A book cover. “There’s no blood,” she said, as if to herself. “But who would take him away from here? And why? I understand why people would be interested in his work, but…he didn’t go willingly. The Vailians did not do this, he was always free to travel. Did the Huana run out of grace? Or did the Rauatai find the way to make it profitable? He was helping people, not making products!”

“The Príncipi don’t deal in academic research that doesn’t fire guns harder.” Serafen frowned. “There’s always Tatzatl’s crew.”

Pallegina’s second eyelids snapped shut and open at a speed that suggested her emotional state. “What is that? Tatzatl?”

“He runs a crew of godlike up and down the straits. They mostly keep to themselves when they aren’t abducting – er, adopting abandoned – godlike children.”

“Then they notice when a man researches the godlike.”

“Exactly. I don’t know if this is their preferred modus operandi, but it be worth a look.”

“Then we just need to find where they like to be,” said Vailond. “People around here look like they know things.”

“Knowing something that won’t bite you in the arse is the trick,” said Serafen. “You and I could go searching.”

“No,” said Pallegina. She set her jaw. “I need to do this myself.”

“Take Tekēhu, at least,” said Vailond.

“I need to do this myself.”

“Just tell me when I can do something,” said Vailond.

Pallegina slumped a little. “You are kind,” she said softly.

With that it was just Serafen and Xoti. Xoti waved and took a room. Serafen and Vailond stayed together in the hallway. Actually, they went back down to the nook.

Serafen, for once, wasn’t in the mood. “You do this often?”

Vailond stared, unsure what to do with the non-carnal. “Do what?”

“Take on your crew’s problems as your own. It’s charming, but it’ll kill you if you let it.”

“How is she my crew if I don’t take care of her?”

“You sit up with soup for them when they’re sick?”

“They’re pretty healthy.” So it wasn’t even a problem.

His ear twitched. “I sense a but.”

“Not always healthy. I was stuck alone with someone once. He was hurt. Stupid and hurt. I had to get both my shirts off and put the top on back on just to have something to bind his wound with. And, you know, it saved him. So yes. I do treat their troubles as mine.”

“Your choice, Cap. And I can’t say I haven’t taken the benefit. Just watch for yourself, will you?”

“Of course,” she said. “You know I will.”

“I know no such thing,” he said, and kissed her. “Sleep tight, my beauty.”

She gave him to the count of twenty before she reappeared in the hall to find her bedroom.


	11. Harsh Medicine; The Shadow Under Neketaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond is stuck in town for as long as the Queen chooses to impound her ship. And she won't be the one to break down. Xoti takes her to the Narrows, and Aloth has his own idea of helping break the impasse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may slow due to personal things, but I'm still actively working this project.

By morning it was obvious that the crew of the _Defiant_ had been informed of the impoundment…impounding? Impoundage?...and that the Hole was the place to gather. Not everyone was there in the morning. Xoti and Serafen stuck around. Vailond had a huge breakfast and a brief, satisfying sulk.

Several of the group had separated, but Vailond walked with Xoti, Tekēhu, and Serafen on a vague errand Xoti had mentioned. Xoti could be completely, innocently thick when she wanted to be, and as they walked through the wretched streets with the reclining miseries and kith grime, she seemed totally determined to not describe what she was doing.

The area was mostly aumaua, all raggedly dressed, many looking like they hadn’t had a meal in days. “This is so different,” Vailond said. She would give her dagger the grip of a bad neighborhood, only, nobody here seemed to pose a credible threat. A stiff breeze would knock them over.

“It is not the rangas’ proudest domain,” Tekēhu said quietly. “All goods and services of the Huana are assigned to the castes…and the Roparu get what no one else will take. It is not a perfect system, I say, and it looks even worse here...but when there is not enough to go around, what is one to do?”

“You’d figure something out,” muttered Xoti. She was peering at every wretched shack, every heap of boards and refuse. “There she is,” she said at last, and knocked on a door that seemed to front a fat slug of a building.

The woman who answered was brown, bent, and wrinkled, in clothes much the same.

“Friend of yours?” said Vailond, startled.

The woman skittered backward. “Laws, Xoti, don’t scare a body like that!”

“Pitli! You don’t have this whole building to yourself, do you? It’s huge.”

Pitli straightened. “Sorry I can’t let you in,” she said, staring significantly at Vailond.

“Strictly speaking I wouldn’t let me in either,” mused Serafen.

“It’s all right, she’s a friend.” Xoti turned. “Vail, this is Pitli, a child of the Dawnstars. Pitli, this is Vailond, Tekēhu, and Serafen.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Pitli said, not really smiling. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

Behind her, at a distance, someone exploded into wet coughing.

“Ngati’s wave,” said Tekēhu. “Is that drowner’s lung?”

More coughing came. Two people this time.

“Please,” said Pitli. “If the Mataru find out, they will kill them rather than suffer the disease to spread.”

“I didn’t think it had become this bad,” said Xoti.

“Some are set to die of starvation before disease,” said Pitli. “We are desperate here.”

“We could find a way to help,” said Xoti. “Can’t we?” She directed this at Vailond.

“In hard winters you choose who eats,” said Vailond. Xoti looked shocked. “That’s what you do. But it isn’t a hard winter, it’s a city. One of the Roparu has got to be clever and hard enough to arrange another way of getting food.” Serafen nodded fervently.

“I think you’re overestimating what spirit they’ve got left,” said Xoti. “It’s not that they haven’t tried.”

“If I find them another food source, what’s to stop them just giving up next week and sliding back to starvation?”

“Sometimes you have to make a difference. Even if you can’t guarantee it’ll last forever.”

“So what can we do to get them a difference?”

That proved to be a trip to Delver’s Row, a strange little marketplace that Vailond could not physically understand. It had to be between the inner slopes of the Gullet, despite its sprawl.

Still, they found a merchant willing to sell them a remedy for drowners’ lung. For two hundred copper per afflicted person, and Xoti said there were eight.

They put their heads together outside.

“No,” said Vailond. “We need every last pand to get the gear and the people we’ll need to reach Eothas.”

Xoti shook her lantern, drawing crazed animations of shadow around them. “And you’ll just let them die because you want, what, an oar to go a little faster?”

“Are you telling me I shouldn’t?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you! We Eothasians, we help people. And he will understand when you meet him again. You will meet him again, in the right time.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“Stop talking about guarantees! You can’t control the future! All you can do is make sure you can live with yourself when that future comes.”

“If you’re such a philosopher, why are you with me? I shoot things, Xoti, and in my plentiful spare time I watch the mistakes of a million people who can’t go back and fix it. That’s what I am. I am keeping all my resources for the big job. Because there’s no point helping people if I can’t fix that.”

“Vail…there’s every point. This is the moment where you can change lives. Where you can give hope to souls. Where you can make sure that every Watcher from now on through history can see one life and think, there was kindness there. Isn’t that worth a pile of copper?”

“And what do I say to Zamar and anybody else we need help from?”

Xoti smiled winsomely. “Faith manages.”

“Faith manages when somebody backs it up.” She patted her crossbow. “Fine. We get the medicine.”

Xoti clasped her hands, sending her lamp waving its eerie light around. “Thank you, Vail. Really.”

*

When Aloth walked through the Hole, he kept his loose-flowing clothing gathered tight around himself. He picked a route around a number of arbitrary points of disgust until he reached Vailond’s table and told her something.

“You what,” said Vailond.

“I went to speak with the Queen,” he repeated, steadier than before. “This standstill cannot continue. We must find our way to the Ashen Maw.”

“What did she want?”

“As of this morning? Assistance with the watershapers’ guild. They have fallen silent and she wishes to know why.”

“And if we tell her she lets us go.”

“I made sure that figured prominently in our conversation.”

“You went behind my back.”

“In the interest of breaking this impasse, I thought it advisable.”

“Damn it, Aloth!” He held his ground. Vailond sighed. “Then we go. Did you get us an appointment?”

“Ah. In point of fact, I did.”

*

Queen Onekaza probably had not expected to start her conversation with the Watcher with a discussion of the logistics of actually feeding her own people in the Gullet, but, well, that’s what she got. Vailond hammered the point, feeling dimly Xoti’s glowing pride, Edér’s low-key admiration, Aloth’s bafflement mixed with something, Tekēhu’s willing support, Serafen’s casual amusement, Maia’s stiff-necked approval, and Pallegina’s melting skepticism. Vailond had a redistribution promise within an hour.

“Now, then,” she said. “About my ship.”

“Now, then, you listen,” the queen said curtly. “My messengers have not returned from the guildmaster in the Luminous Bathhouse. You are to bring my words to him. Matters are moving too quickly to leave much separation. Take your friends.” _Try not to adopt any additional districts on your way_.

“Then, my ship.”

The queen growled. “Then your ship.”

Vailond rushed. The thought of the ocean wind in her hair pushed her along. They went down the winding steps and across the curving bridge to the beautiful place of water sculpture and waterfall.

“All right,” she said. “Edér, you’re friendly-looking. With me.”

*

“Oh, gods,” said Vailond.

It was nagas. Why did it have to be nagas?

The things had burst from some pipes and slaughtered indiscriminately. In the pool beneath where the pipes came from they found Onekazu’s guildmaster. The master of the Neketaka watershapers. She was dying. The battle had raged from front door to side tunnel, or perhaps in the opposite direction. Vailond kept her crossbow ready.

“The door,” whispered the guildmaster. “Take my rod. Enter the door. No matter what it says…don’t listen to it.”

“What it?” said Vailond. “Who’s it?”

But the guildmaster had stopped breathing.

The door she referred to was firmly barred. The lock seemed to be made of enameled figures. “Tekēhu?” she said.

“Icons from classic poetry,” he said, turning the lock with ease. He murmured an assortment of words that might be a poem but it didn’t rhyme or anything. “Here.”

There were no more naga. Vailond was almost starting to feel like she could handle this mess.

“Aloth,” she said, hoping he would listen, “would you bring up a….”

“You,” said the bound dragon.

*

The room was beautiful with the imaginations of its architects. Gleaming metal sconces, narrow streams of water flowing into a map of the Archipelago in glimmering droplets and island-shaping streams.

And in the center, between four pillars, an exquisite blue-green dragon.

Scyorielaphas spoke calmly, levelly, even as he told a story of how he had made a deal with the watershapers of the Huana and they had taken the chance of his weakness to bind him and use his power for watershaping.

“This isn’t possible,” breathed Tekēhu. “Our power comes from Ngati herself.”

“That gift has faded with the diminution of your people,” said the dragon. “Believe me. My freedom would set back progress by a generation. In the face of this I can only request, that I am old, and wronged, and I wish to see the sky before I die.”

“Immortal, surely?” said Tekēhu. “But perhaps that is no better.”

“Wasn’t it service you wanted?” said Xoti. “You’re making a real difference here for thousands of people.”

Vailond shook her head. “You’re saying the Huana will be set back, maybe wiped out. They need watershaping to counter the other factions. Everybody knows that.”

“But you have the power to act. Do you have the guildmaster’s rod? Free me. Let me take wing again.”

She did not raise he rod. She looked for his soul, and it sprang into focus.

She had to push through a thick grey web. This creature was, above all else, weary. She leaned in. Cooperation, defense, aumaua promising a trade, fashioning glowing pictures of the wonders that they could make for one another. An excavation into Neketaka’s mountain, a melting pot for the powers of dragon and watershapers. A great undertaking.

Then, the wards. Then, the rope tiedown. Then, finding his strength stolen from him, drawn out into the little people who had flattered him all the way here.

Then the darkness, as the mountain was rebuilt over him. Periki was there until the end, mewling about the needs of the many. In time even his voice faded.

Killing this would be a mercy.

Vailond shivered as she came back to herself. She thought of Tekēhu’s beautiful sculptures, of the great waves in the Huana military exercise she had seen on her way to Hasongo. She thought of losing that, and of those proud people surrendering to firearms and merchants. She thought of that one thing everyone wanted her to know when she was the Lady of Caed Nua: sometimes the leader sacrificed for the good of the many.

“Scyorielaphas,” she said, turning each syllable like a counting coin, “I am sorry. A people can stay proud because of you.”

And she turned the rod toward strengthening the bindings.

The dragon bellowed and thrashed, but his bonds had been tight enough even before Vailond’s reinforcement. She finished her task in silence.

She stalked out again, as fast as her legs would take her. Her companions twittered and babbled and she didn’t care. Some of them fell away as she went to the Gullet, to the Hole to a squalid little room.

There she hugged the lumpy pillow and screamed into it. Because the Lady of Caed Nua had dispensed the fate of the many, she screamed.

*

If Aloth was already damned in Vailond’s eyes, it wouldn’t make a difference to her whether he came or not. So he came.

He heard the sobbing from the hallway. He let himself in and shut the door. “Vailond,” he said. “Would you look at me?”

“No.” She sniffled. “Stop walking into my room, Aloth.”

“I’m sorry. I thought I was helping when I got the queen’s assignment.”

“I just signed an indefinite extension on the slavery and torture of an intelligent, beautiful being. Did the Queen request that?”

“She’ll be pleased to know of the resolution. Of the service you offered her people.”

“And then we’re free to go. Well, isn’t that just lovely.” She raised her head and twisted to look at him. “Aloth, I should’ve just killed him. Like any dragon hunt, a worthy enemy. Instead I left him in that place…and nobody but me is ever going to see what the rest of his life was like. He was so old, Aloth. He was so hopeful.”

“I know. And I know he hoped that in that place, in that time, he could be the one to make the difference. That position is rarely rewarding.”

“If that’s supposed to mean something, I’m too tired to sort it out. Please leave.”

“The queen should release us after this. You did more than was required.”

“And less than was called for. Go away.”

“I wanted to help.” He paused in the doorway. “I’m sorry it happened like this. But you wouldn’t be who you are if you could do it without caring.”

She shoved a forearm across her eyes and took a shaky breath. “I know you wanted to help. All right? I understand that. And you did, with the naga. You did getting us that hearing with the queen. Are you happy? You did what I wouldn’t do and you were right. It was what we needed. I still want to go back out there and put him down.”

“He was made to be a guardian. He still meets that purpose.”

She hugged herself. “I’m still angry.”

“I’m sorry. Vail….”

She snarled wetly at him. “Am I supposed to thank you more? Will that make you happy?”

“You don’t have to talk.”

Her pain seemed to ease. She looked into his eyes, not holding out for once, not shoving herself into a role. Not the bruiser. Not the captain. Just a woman who had made one wrong call after another, and cared.

He knelt before her. He looked at her. Her breathing smoothed and slowed.

“I’ll be more responsible,” she whispered. “I’m trying.”

“I will advise you as best I can.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced them open. “Thank you. Please go. Believe it or not I’m trying not to make things harder for you.”

“I’m flattered, I think. Don’t tear yourself up on my behalf.”

“Aloth, did you ever—no. Did you—when you were traveling without me, didn’t anyone ever—” She touched her throat as if to discipline it. “Never mind,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What doesn’t?” But she said nothing more when she hid her cornflower-blue eyes away.

*

The knock on the door was low and brisk. “Captain! Captain, there be things to see.”

Vailond stretched – she had slept in her clothes and her neck was killing her – and looked out to find Serafen.

“I have the perfect antidote for bad-tasting decisions,” he said. He looked around the hall and dove in for a kiss just under her ear. She shivered. He looked innocent as he whistled his way down the stairs.

“I don’t want a big production,” said Vailond.

“You’re not getting one. Just trust me.”

They walked through the Gullet, and Vailond held onto her purse. Not the most compassionate response, she knew, but she wasn’t here with Xoti (or, she had to admit, Aloth) and she was on a budget.

Through the Gullet, down a wide-ish alley toward Queen’s Berth. Vailond heard it an instant before Serafen did. Footsteps from among the buildings. They prepped and raised their weapons just in time to see six strangers slinking into the alley around them.

“Well, look at this lost lamb.” It was an aumaua speaking, muscular, rough-haired. “If it isn’t—”

Vailond and Serafen fired. One bolt, one bullet. The man dropped like a stone. Vailond rewound in seconds, shortly behind Serafen. Luckily they were up against hesitant people. By unspoken agreement they aimed at the next biggest.

“Wait, now,” he said, “there’s no need to get uncivil, we’re all gentlemen here—”

Without losing focus or aim Serafen pulled his second pistol out and pointed it at a guy off to their right who was fussing with a blunderbuss. He fired. The guy dropped.

The others found other places to be.

“Up against your back is a fine place to be,” said Serafen as he knelt by the dead aumaua and started checking pockets. “D’you think they really be after us specifically?”

“Does it matter?”

“It pays to know your enemies, Cap.” He jerked his head toward the recipient of his second bullet.

“That was a fine shot,” she said.

“Looks utterly badass when it works, eh?”

“It doesn’t always?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She fetched a wallet and laughed. “No, and you never would.”

“This weren’t the tour I brought you out for.”

“Ah. I am in your hands.”

“Out here? Or be we shooting up bubbles of privacy every time we need it?”

“Lead me, silly.”

He brought her to Queen’s Berth. He brought her to the docks. He brought her to the _Defiant_ , which lay alongside, no guards or rope barriers involved.

Serafen brushed her elbow without a conspicuous lean-in. “This be for you, lass.”

She bounded up the gangplank and ran a circuit of the deck. She stopped outside her cabin and faced the bow and sighed. “This is where I go to make up for it all.”

“There, lass. There be your backing when kith or dragonkind fail you. There be your next step.”

“How do you always know what to say?”

“I be canny as well as gorgeous.”

“How do I make it up to you?”

“I thought that were obvious.”

She laughed in spite of herself. She jerked her head toward her cabin. “Can I have a word with you?”

He grinned fiercely. “Aye-aye, Cap. You know that the best way to get over something be to get under someone else.”

“Are you offering?”

“Gladly and of my own free will.”

“Come in, then.”

He did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serafen’s school of therapy. Bring protection.


	12. False Starts, Ragged Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edér chases his former flame's son, and Vailond has an opinion on the outcome. The crew hears a folk tale, and Ishi the bird gets a snack. When the Defiant stops for its final supplies before facing the Ashen Maw, Serafen gets more than he'd bargained for. Aloth receives a long, long delayed letter, and wants to talk about it.

“You have given me much to think about,” said the Queen.

Vailond took the miserable watershaper’s rod, instrument of the dragon’s captivity, and set it at the monarch’s feet. “I don’t know what’s magic about this, but it belongs to the Huana.”

Then it was back to her ship. It was time to pursue the Ashen Maw.

She saw Edér pacing the deck from up the road. He raked his fingers back through his hair and stalked down to the dock. Vailond ran to meet him.

“You made it,” he said, staring ahead without slowing. “The Children of the Shining Path are moving. Bearn’s going to get on a ship to go die with Eothas.”

Vailond stiffened. It was not time for the Ashen Maw. “Point me.”

He did, taking long steps that left her running. They raced along the docks. “They’re loading now. It’s possible—I can see it from here. He’s next in line. If that ship leaves port they’re going to get themselves killed.”

“Tell me what to shoot.”

He broke to a sprint, thundering, unstoppable, step after step. “Nothing, I hope.”

They forced their way on board halfway through the crew casting off. The crew were villagers and sailors; they didn’t carry weaponry that could challenge Edér’s shield combined with Vailond’s menacing crossbow. When Edér chanted an Eothasian hymn they lowered their knives. After that he asked nicely for them not to leave yet.

The boy and his cult leader were in the foul hold, lit only by a pair of open hatches to the deck. Bosc waved off his faithful for the conversation.

Vailond stood by, and did not intervene, while Bosc and Edér went back and forth, trying to convince Bearn to sacrifice his life to Eothas or come back, come anywhere, and find home. Did the boy have any idea what Edér was offering him? She wouldn’t exactly switch her entire career path on his say-so, not without some very good reasons, but here he did have reasons. Why didn’t everyone see him like that?

“Yes, boy.” Bosc was smiling as Bearn raised the little red vial to his lips. Edér’s argument against Bosc was failing.

So Vailond made hers with a crossbow.

“Vail!” Even as Bosc fell Vailond realized that Bearn was emptying the vial into his thrown-back mouth.

Vailond acted. At no point during Edér’s search for his former flame had Vailond suspected that she would end up in the stinking hold of an overweight freighter, sticking her fingers into the throat of a very stupid teenager, but Edér’s showdown had left her emotionally exhausted, and now that the boy had chosen the cult and drunk their magic draught of ritual suicide she had no thought but to take that tremor from Edér’s voice, that horror from his eyes.

The boy lurched and retched, bubbling the viscous red fluid past her hand and onto the floor.

Edér threw himself beside her, resting a big hand on Bearn’s thin shoulders. “Bearn! Can you hear me?”

The boy coughed and arched his spine. “No,” he whispered. “I was supposed to….”

“You’re supposed to live. You can have your whole life to decide whether it’s right. But you’re going to have that life.” Edér looked at Vailond, and his eyes had never seemed so wide nor so fragile.

“Eothas is an upjumped street magician,” said Vailond. “I don’t care if you understand that now but it’ll make a lot of things make a lot more sense.”

“Why did you bring her here?” Bearn said bitterly.

“It’s just what I do when there’s trouble,” said Edér. “Come on, we’re still at dock.”

Bearn stumbled a little, but he waved off Edér’s hand. They walked through Queen’s Berth, the image of any family who just disciplined their teenage boy. There was a time Vailond would have loved that assumption. Now…she wanted to help, but mothering? No.

Edér got less and less comfortable with each step. “Did you have friends in Hasongo? Before Bosc, I mean.”

“He could go work for Zamar,” said Vailond. “Shipbuilding’s rough but it’s a good trade.”

Bearn swallowed. “I don’t know anything about…”

“Tell him I sent you. He’ll get a roof over your head. It’s right here on Neketaka, you’ll have plenty of space to roam.”

Edér nodded. “You can talk to Eothasians that don’t need to die to know their god.”

They made it up to Zamar’s drydock, which he patrolled with a scowl. “You. Defiant. Treating you well? There’s plenty more work I could put into her.”

“I might yet need that,” said Vailond. “This is Bearn. He’s new in town. Wants a job.”

“Honest work,” said Edér.

Zamar took the request with a scowl. “Aye, if he can manage his hands there’s work enough. Boy. Can you lift more than a flower petal?”

“I’m strong,” grumbled Bearn.

“Good. Let’s show you what we’re about.”

“I guess…I’ll check in, Bearn. Be careful. There’s friends to be found here…all kinds.” Edér rubbed his neck and stared until Bearn turned away.

Then, quickly, the docks. The mission now was to get to the Ashen Maw in time to meet Eothas. Edér spoke as he strode. “Thank you. I thought for sure he was gone.”

“No. He picked something I could fix.”

“And so put himself up against your stubbornness. He didn’t stand a chance.” He looked to the sky and back. “Thanks.”

*~*~*

“Here...Captain.” Serafen took the rope from Vailond’s offering hands and started wrapping it around the mast-mounted cleat.

Maia squinted at his work. “You securing that canvas or getting it ready for fun time? I can’t tell.”

“I consider myself no less venturesome than the next gentleman of fortune,” he said, “but I draw the line at rope-tied verticality.”

Vailond couldn’t resist a high-eyebrow look. He looked at her and the corner of his mouth twitched before his gaze moved on.

Pallegina, out of her usual breastplate, climbed nimbly up to take a rope from beside the mainsail. “Here,” she called.

Maia caught it. “This is getting frayed,” she said in a voice pitched for Vailond. “Better get a deckhand on it.”

“Got it,” said Vailond. “What else needs doing?”

“For one thing,” called Xoti, “we’d better figure out what’s swimming beside us.”

The knot dissolved. Vailond bounded to the gunwale beside Xoti, Serafen sauntered, Maia strode, Pallegina marched. Then of a sudden Tekēhu appeared among them. “You’ll tilt the ship, I say. What is so interesting?”

Beneath them in the water was something long, longer even than the ship, and pale. It surged in ripples from its glistening white head to a little chaos of white tendrils. Colors dotted and bloomed and passed away while Vailond watched.

Tekēhu clapped. “A good omen, I say! They say that Ngati created the marike first among all animals. It was her broadest design, for she gave it the eyes that would someday be of squid, and the shell that would someday be of oysters, and the skirt that would sometimes be of jellyfish, and the feelers that would someday be of the great kraken.”

“Only smaller,” said Xoti, staring concernedly over the edge.

“Well,” said Tekēhu, “to start with.”

“You really just had to say that, didn’t you,” said Aloth.

“The marike was glad to explore the entire ocean it had been given. And Ngati called upon the marike and said, is it good? And the marike, first among all animals of the sea, said Yes, mother, and swam away.

“Yet again Ngati called upon the marike and said, is it good? And the marike, dearest among all animals of the sea, came from the storm she was enjoying by an island and said Yes, mother, and swam away.

“And yet again Ngati called upon the marike and said, is it good? And the marike, most treasured among all animals of the sea, came from swimming along a bright shore and said Yes, mother, and swam away.

“And yet again Ngati called upon the marike and said, is it good? And the marike, who had espied another marike inside a snug atoll, said mother, it is only good if I am free to wander it.

“And Ngati rose in majesty and said, if you are so fond of the freedom of the sea I give it to you. You will never come in sight of the land, nor wash up upon it, and if someone seeks to take you to the shore you will melt like water in the sun; until then, swim, my marike, for it is good whether you are grateful or not. And ever since that day, the marike has swum far from shore, and those who catch them find them melting to water on the deck.”

“Oh,” Vailond said glumly.

“Does my history not please you, my friend?”

“Just because she kept demanding to talk to it, and suddenly it’s the marike’s fault.” She shook her head. “I don’t like gods.”

“They’re still beautiful,” said Xoti.

They had squiddly bits. Not as bad as Naga, but still pretty bad. Vailond crossed the deck. Was the ship really listing? She leaned over the gunwale. No squid monsters here.

She didn’t notice Maia until the aumaua leaned alongside. “Tekēhu at the folk tales again?”

“Yes.”

Maia snorted.

“You can’t be tired of that already.”

“It’s not just him. The Huana don’t know how to shut up about it.”

“So…not a fan.”

“He doesn’t have a monopoly on legends. They have a legend for everything except their own future. They seem to admit that’s a myth too farfetched to merit a mention.”

Too political. “What do the Rauatai say about Ngati?”

“Ondra? She rewards initiative.” Maia crossed her forearms over the gunwale. “And it looks to me like we’re getting favorable winds.”

“I don’t know how we’re getting through a volcano.”

Maia shrugged, or else dipped her head down between her shoulders. “Maybe Rymrgand will send a frost.”

“So…no idea.”

A grim half smile. “No idea. Though if Eothas wants to talk to you, and he has even the slightest power of rational thought, he’ll have thought about how to see you there safe.”

“Cap,” said Serafen. “Don’t tell me you two are staring at squid.”

“But…Ngati,” said Vailond, a little self-conscious that she remembered nothing more of their story.

“Ugly bastards. Makes me glad to be in sight of land, some days.”

Maia smiled mirthlessly. “There’s something to that.”

“Hey. Hey, Vail.” It was Edér, walking beside a scowling Aloth. “Ondra’s Gift, in Defiance Bay. Was the lighthouse three levels or four?”

“It had doors on the first and second floor. Then two on top of that.”

“Three!” Aloth said triumphantly. “Four!” Edér said triumphantly.

“Defiance Bay got a gift from Ondra?” said Maia.

“Complete destruction of its harbor infrastructure,” said Aloth.

“And that’s what humans remember about the gods,” said Vailond.

“I’d like to see that told from an inn tabletop,” said Serafen, grinning. “It’d be a change of pace.”

“You should count from the highest ground floor,” said Aloth.

Vailond rolled her eyes. “If I say three and a half will you relax?”

“We could ask the Steward,” said Edér. “She’s got a good memory.”

Aloth scowled. “And, not to put too fine a point on it, she likes you more.”

Edér shrugged. “When I’m right, sure.”

Maia watched them go. “They’ve known each other a long time.”

“Yes.”

“Practically married, the…three of you,” said Serafen. “It be some nerve to interfere with that.”

“I never spoke any vows,” said Vailond.

Maia scoffed, breaking that one weird second where Vailond had forgotten about her. “News to me,” she said. “I think the squid party is breaking up. Captain. Serafen.”

“Later. —Cap, she absolutely noticed that.”

“Did you?”

“Loud and clear.” He took one of his pistols, the little one fitted for his hand, and brushed it off. “Question for the theologian in you, you think the gods will take exception to our pastime?”

(Later, much later, she would realize that what he was whether she cared enough to stay clear of Aloth and Edér but didn’t feel strongly enough to spare Serafen.)

“Fuck that,” she said, and looked out to the wide sea. (Later, much later, she would wonder whether that satisfied.)

Xoti cried out at the far side. The marike had dived.

*~*~*

Vailond was just washing her face in the basin when something knocked on her door.

On the bottom panel of her door.

Vailond drew her stiletto. “Hello?” No answer, just another tap. She eased the door open, keeping its bulk between her and whoever was trying to get in.

Ishiza, the red bird of prey, hopped in and started nosing at Vailond’s pocket.

“Hello there,” she said. “What, did Maia not feed you this morning?”

Ishiza croaked and nipped at the pocket’s opening.

“I don’t have food there today,” said Vailond. She had never had to talk much to Tyrhos, but Ishi seemed like the talkative type. “To be honest, I ran out.” Ishi was working up to an insistent peck. “Come on, why don’t we find something?”

She walked out into a baking sun and reflexively checked the backs of her arms – peeling from the latest sunburn already. Ishi hopped beside her, keeping the tip of his beak at the entrance to her pocket. She went down to the mess and greeted Irrena.

“Meat ration times two,” said Vailond. “The better cured the better.”

“Rank corruption, when a captain can just stroll in and feed her— _you brought it in with you?”_

“Hand me food and we’ll be gone.”

~*~*~

The charts said Ashen Maw; the last stop was supplies on Sayuka. Vailond didn’t regret it. Here was where Serafen the shiphunter could pick up the trail of his old crewmate.

They followed rumors, cipher snippets, and Serafen’s unerring memory of his friend Remaro’s looks and habits. Vailond was shocked when it actually led to an old man standing by a road’s shoulder overlooking the port.

Serafen proudly introduced Vailond to Remaro. Vailond, unsure what would be good tribute to her first mate’s friend, opted to fold her arms across her chest and nod.

The discussion was fairly short: Remaro was on the run after mutinying against a Príncipi captain over questions of slaving and the future of the organization. It all sounded pretty theoretical to Vailond, apart from the actual slavery part. Remaro insisted he was going to disappear further, and Serafen, clearly chewing on something, let him.

Vailond walked to the road’s edge and leaned on a low wall there. She gave Serafen five or ten minutes. Then she said, “I’ll be back on the _Defiant_.”

“No. We’ll go together.” He shook his head, hard. “That be too much to hold together just now.”

“Want to find a corner?”

“No. I don’t.”

They wound their way down to Sayuka’s modest port. Finally he looked up. “A mutineer against the Príncipi itself. For what, I’ll never understand.”

“You know now,” she said. “And you know why he can’t come back.”

“He sold. The _Sorcerer_. To buy a faster means to more distant waves. That were my home, Cap, and not only mine. There were other ways. A crew that doesn’t like the Príncipi can put in their word with the captains and stand for it….” He kept walking.

She didn’t chase with words. What was there to say? He’d had a friend, and his friend was gone away, with no intention to return. He’d had a ship, and it was sold away, with no likely return.

She walked a step behind him. He shook her off when they reached the Defiant. Aching, she went to her cabin.

Half a minute later came the knock. Serafen helped himself up. Without speaking he walked past her. He pulled down the bed and secured it. He sat on its edge, staring down between his knees. His blue tufted ears looked limp.

And she had no idea how to help. “Serafen?”

He looked at her from under his brow. “Come here, lass.”

She did. He patted the mattress and she sat, nestling close beside him.

He looked up. He took her chin between his fingers. He guided her into a kiss, tentative, gentle, totally new. She touched his cheek, the braids of his beard. He slid fingertips lightly now to seek her free hand and lace it with his own.

He tipped to touch his nose to hers, his forehead to hers. “Ah,” he whispered. “Would you let me in?”

“I already do,” she said, confused.

“No. Your soul, what you have of it. Let me in.”

She wasn’t sure how to lower her defenses. She reached in to find his soul, his passions about the ship that was lost, his fury at how a political movement had stolen his most precious possession. The _Sorcerer_ wasn’t his possession except in this colored mirror.

She felt him rubbing past, diving into her. She couldn’t tell what he saw, but when he came back he touched her cheek. “And that’s the lass that chose to be here today.”

“Tell me what I can do.”

“Were that an easy thing….”

“I can leave you alone.”

“Take an hour with me. That’s all.”

“To do what?”

“Lie down with me. Simple.”

She did.

After a moment he shifted and deftly undid two buttons of her shirt. He pushed it aside and rested his ear on her chest, snug against her heartbeat. “Some days it’s all ink and no squid,” he murmured, and stayed still when she slid her fingers to the shallow restless beat under his beard. It beat, and beat, and Vailond wished with all her heart that his wasn’t broken.

*~*~*

Aloth was on deck waiting for the last stragglers of Vailond’s sailors to get back. A stranger approached instead. It was a lean eyeless man, his face mostly covered by weathered grey plates, who helped himself up the gangplank and approached Aloth, holding forth a forearm-length metal tube. “Message for Aloth Corfiser,” he said in a deep voice. “He is on this crew, no?”

“I am he. May I ask whom this is from?”

“I do not know. More than a year this message has been crossing Eora since it was handed to me. I am pleased to fulfill my service.” He saluted gravely and left.

“I see,” Aloth said after him. “Thank you.” He looked around. It didn’t seem right to take out an old letter without shelter. He stole downstairs, greeted the Steward around the corner, and unscrewed the top of the canister in his bunk.

A wax seal popped out. Aloth knew it at once: Vailond’s wolf’s head biting a fish. His heart stirred. What had Vailond sent him that would take more than a year to arrive?

He unrolled the heavy parchment. Vailond would be back soon. She might laugh to see how late the message trailed the woman who’d sent it.

_To the Esteemed Wizard Aloth:_

_Hellow. I hope you are faring Well in your travels. As you can see, I have continued my writing lessons._

_I do not Love the instructor._

_It makes me sick to think that we Parted at Cross Purposes. I should have offered you friendship. I do not know the words for all the things I didn’t say before you left. I do not know the words, but you always did, and now you are not here. All I can think is that I wish you would want to Forgive me._

_You were my Friend, Aloth, the oldest I had left. Now I do not know where you are, but I pray to Gallewain that you can be my Friend again. He is a hunter. He would know how to Find you. I do not, because perhaps you do not want me to._

_I am Yours in hope that your path crosses mine again,_

_Yours faithfully,_

_Vailond Degowr_

DeGauer. You spell it DeGauer.

Aloth was moving before he realized it. He rushed abovedeck and to the cabin’s door. How old was this letter? He didn’t know. At maximum, five years. For five years he had believed her unforgiving, when in truth she just had poor judgment about messengers. She cared. After all, she cared. “Vail!” he called, knocking. “Vail?”

Vail answered. She looked flushed and wide-eyed. In one icy moment he realized her shirt was halfway open, and Serafen was peering with curiosity from the bed.

She seemed to notice her exposure and hurried to clasp her shirt at her throat. “Yes?” she said.

Serafen. “It’s nothing,” said Aloth. “Yes. I will go be elsewhere.” His world flashed white for a long moment as the door closed. He reeled away, thinking only of returning to his bunk and vanishing into the slats. He fled, because that letter was badly out of date, and she had turned her sights elsewhere. Again.

*~*~*

The orlan looked at Vailond. “He didn’t know.”

Vailond’s face must be burning. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to happen…at the right time, somehow. She would know. She cleared her throat. “I haven’t told anyone. You agreed. The crew all know anyway.”

“Hm.” He jingled the coins at his throat for a moment before he looked at her again. “So tell me now. You being such good friends and all. Be it your porridge he’ll be poisoning, or mine? A man likes to know these things.”

“There isn’t a petty bone in his body.” And she was pretty sure Iselmyr wouldn’t surface just to visit revenge on her. Pretty sure.

“I’d best relocate to a more neutral location.”

Vailond hesitated. She wanted to stay curled up with him forever. She wanted to run after Aloth and take that look off his face. She had no idea why she couldn’t make everyone happy.

Serafen was standing. “If you need me,” she said.

He chuckled. “People like you and me? We don’t need anyone.” He looked meaningfully at the door, then sauntered to the trap door and made himself scarce.

“But that’s not true,” she said to no one, because no one was left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay; my filling-in was not up to my outline. I may post only on Tuesdays until I have a few posts built up.


	13. The Ashen Maw, and What Followed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond catches up with Eothas once again. Afterward Serafen soothes her nerves, but she must decide what allies to take on the next leg of her quest. She opts to split her friends up to cover more ground on the things that must be settled before she continues to the lost island.

Did the gods care? The _Defiant_ took a strong following wind north and east toward the volcanic islands of Magran’s Teeth. The mood was tense. Vailond knew that Eothas didn’t intend to harm her, much, but walking into Magran’s territory after she had suggested killing all life on Eora…it didn’t fill Vailond with confidence. In fact, she didn’t mention that threat to her crew. If Magran wasn’t serious it didn’t matter, and if she was serious, it didn’t change what they had to do.

Silences weighed, and Aloth wouldn’t look her in the eye. It hurt most in groups when he addressed someone, anyone else, a little too quickly for a natural progression. It felt like she was hiding two relationships, not just one. One made her feel good, and one was Aloth.

The wind took them to a great stone point jutting into the sea and then died in place. Vailond took her companions up a little footpath to the top of the point. They could see the ocean for miles around. And above? There had been a great fortress here, made of black-mortared stone built tall enough to compete with Eothas.

Maybe that was its mistake.

Above and behind the remnants of the fortress, a black mountain was bleeding. Vailond had no other words. The red oozed from cracks and holes, down toward the fortress, down into the ocean. The only other color was a pair of blue-green pillars, strangely shaped, half obscured by the fortress.

Vailond searched for the souls, but she already knew what she would find. Eothas. Touching an adra pillar.

“Every moment he is conscious he may choose to drain nearby souls,” said Aloth. “Shall we hurry?”

The giants who lived here were servants of Magran and wanted nothing more than to be rid of the rebel god in their midst. Vailond raced up, and up, once more tracing the levels of the being that glowed with the power of a thousand souls.

Souls he had taken, leaving only ash in their wake.

The giants permitted them into an ugly raised structure dominated by an altar and surrounded by the ashen figures of drained kith. They turned their backs as Vailond ran to the rough cave where a dragon guarded the key.

More dragons, bound to somebody else’s will. This time Vailond did what she should have done. This time she killed it. Tekēhu silently gave her a little droplet of pure water to splash on her face in the aftermath.

The altar lowered them to an outlet that had been a broad deck and was now a jagged line of flat stone. Here they ran to array themselves across from Eothas.

“Gaun himself,” whispered Xoti. “Gaun is here.”

He turned, his golden veins shining in the red light, his great carved eyes gleaming orange. “Watcher,” he said. “You have come.”

It was a short conversation, once she got through Xoti hyperventilating and Edér demanding an explanation that, Vailond was now sure, would never come. Eothas meant to reveal the true identity of the gods, Engwithan constructs with no divine mandate at all, then press on to Ukaizo, a word that sent an electric jolt among most of Vailond’s crew, and there destroy the Wheel. Berath’s Wheel. The Wheel of reincarnation of souls.

Just that little thing that all life on Eora relied on to keep the world running.

Edér had not given up. “How many people are you tellin’ to die for you on top of the ones you’ve already taken?”

“Is dying in my name more shameful than the plague or a plow accident? Life is fragile, and I seek to save many of them…I would not waste breath on regret.”

“Funny,” shouted Edér. “Regret’s about all half of us have to go on.”

“Edér. Live on faith just a little while longer.”

“I’m not done with you, Eothas!”

Eothas began to turn away. “My soul?” Vailond said, quietly. She knew he could hear her.

He turned back. His manner if anything was even gentler. “Are you sure you want it? It is not you anymore, nor you it.”

“Tyrhos only recognizes one me. Give it back.”

“I should thank you for its use. There is not that much farther to go.”

“Then give it.”

Something in the mountain roared. The Rathun ran and screamed. Before Vailond, Eothas touched the luminous adra pillar once more, and she saw golden threads running from it to his back, the strange butterfly form looming huge here.

And just then she slipped to the In-Between. She knew it better now, and loved it less than ever. She saw a glowing elven figure, featureless, white. It floated toward her. “ _We are together again. Are you ready to be together again_?”

“This is mine.”

The In-Between vanished. Vailond was clinging to her friends. Pallegina had her hand, unyielding. Serafen was at her back, his arms around her waist. Aloth held her other hand, but his attention was on his grimoire as though he were preparing to launch an assault on the god.

They were in Eothas’ grasp. The mountain roared behind him as he waded into the ocean.

Or should have.

Vailond peered as best she could between fingers. The ocean’s floor was exposed here, rough and slimy and stinking in the unaccustomed sun. Well beyond them stood a wall of water big enough to destroy Neketaka. Ondra had spoken.

The soul circled Vailond, or she circled it, seeing halfway into the In-Between where half her soul had done whatever it had done, while Vailond did whatever she had done. They met, and fought, or hugged, or both, touching each point to each point until she could no longer tell them apart.

She was shaking. The wave near her was crashing. It roared over,

And Eothas lifted them. As the wave crashed over his head and around his body, as the air around him flared with the ropes of souls, he held them above it, toward the stars and toward the unbowed sun.

People were talking, babbling, and Eothas was letting them down and then the _Defiant_ was there, held still by Eothas’ fingertip, and everyone was on it, and it sliced through water as though…as though pushed by a god.

“ _Tell them what you have witnessed, Watcher. Tell them what is coming_.”

She fought the darkness. This resolution meant only one thing: her soul was whole. “Tyrhos,” she screamed, or tried to. Then it was dark.

*

Serafen hadn’t read the last thirty pages he’d thumbed through. It was a shit book anyway, but it gave him something to do. He’d convinced the others that a quiet cipher was the best possible bedside guard. He was pretty sure only Xoti and Edér still required the lie. Vailond showed no shame, which was good, because she shouldn’t have any. Their relationship as an open secret wasn’t hurting anyone.

Actually, he’d gotten fond of it.

Vailond stirred, finally.

He came to her side and sat on the edge of the mattress. Her eyes looked sticky with sleep, her short hair disarrayed, her body still strong after the armor was off. “My beauty,” he breathed. “I weren’t sure he would give you back to us.”

She rubbed her eyes without changing place. “Is everyone okay?”

“Some bruises. A few years’ supply of anxiety.”

“How close are we to Neketaka?”

“A day.”

“Oh. I’ve got to talk to the crew.”

“We all heard what you heard, lass. There’s no hurry.”

She sat up. He set a fingertip to her lips and gently, gently pushed her down. “A lot going on,” he said.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she said.

“No news since you went under, I promise. First. Eothas. Off to Ukaizo. Second. Us. Off to Neketaka to round up what support we can for the voyage.”

“Voyage? I never said anything about a voyage.”

“I know. But they will. The good news, you can likely arrange being in charge of the whole expedition. That be likely to give you more freedom. Third. Tyrhos. Your dog, which you never brought me home to meet.”

“He hated me. I think we’ll be fine if he sees me with my whole soul.”

“Loyalty and blinders be rarely better than no loyalty at all. We’ll see.”

Vailond yawned. “Are we close?”

He frowned and studied her face. “Yes, lass.”

“Mm. I’m tired.”

“Sleep might not be wise. Here. A soul picks up memories. I could find one of yours.”

“Oh?”

“Skim it. Pick the favorites.”

“Is that hard?”

He studied his hands. “A normal person, you skim their experiences and that be it. An old one may take longer, but it be manageable. But you…there be no end. No matter how far I look, there be loves, pains, passions, and I could work myself to death trying to bring them all to your surface.”

“Don’t.”

“How do you live, knowing all that?”

“I ignore it. Very hard.”

He laughed. “A valid approach. I’d bring up pleasure for you, the hardest in ten thousand lives.”

“But you already give me that.”

Serafen hesitated. Here, alone, after some kind of battle he couldn’t and some he had been there for, she thought of him. “Shh, stay with me, my beauty,” but the view slipped and slewed to one side when he tried to look, and Eothas was older than this, Eothas was dead, Eothas was silent, his faithful were disappointed, an entire country was cursed and Purged of his name, a war had defined the Dyrwood in blood and broken memories. Eothas had abandoned his loyalists and stayed silent in a hope-killing plague. Eothas had damned her friends and burned her bridges. Eothas cared for no one but himself.

Serafen recoiled. “Black sails, woman. Why did you not shoot him on sight?”

“He seemed too big,” she said, and scrubbed at her eyes. “That’s all.”

“Don’t get ruffled. That isn’t what I meant to show you.”

“It was kind of on my mind.”

“Surface thoughts. I’d be a sorry cipher to stop there.” He touched her hand and closed his eyes.

Now he was floating, drifting downward, someplace sunny and warm. She was lying on her back, muscular arms bare to the sun. There were plants around her, a forest clearing laced with sweet flowers and springy clover. Tyrhos was nearby, her traps set, her hunt at a well-earned pause. Very old names and sensations, but she was happy, happy past anything he’d seen. Ever.

Serafen put himself there, his hand on her stomach, his head propped up by her shoulder. She accepted him as he felt the scene’s edges without moving a hair. She half sat up – his fingertips slid across her tense muscles – and kissed him. Rest without fear, warmth without harshness.

She smiled at him. “It wasn’t like this,” she whispered.

“It is now.”

Her smile took on a glass look. He felt it like a hand at his throat: attention, concentration, the seizing of a soul stronger than his experience. For just a moment he considered the mistake of trying to overcome her past. Then the glass melted. She relaxed and let him into her memory. “There,” she said softly. “You’re perfect there.”

The knock slammed at his concentration. The scene wavered. “Damn it,” he growled. “Come in,” he called.

Vailond beside him looked up, wide-eyed, and her smile told him he should probably have barred the door and stayed with her.

Aloth was there. “Has she moved?” he said, just like he’d said every six hours since they’d left the Ashen Maw.

“I’m awake,” said Vailond. “What is it?”

“What isn’t it?” said Aloth. “You look well.” She shot Serafen a look, blank now but he understood what lay beneath.

“Let’s deal with this,” she said.

*

Vailond stood by the bow with the rest of the inner circle. The wind would carry their words off to sea.

“If I’m understanding this right,” she said, “Eothas, who is an actual physical being, is going to the Wheel, which is an actual physical thing, at Ukaizo, which is an actual physical place, and smashing it to announce to everybody that the gods are constructs and kith need to something something forge their destiny together something.”

“In, uh, general terms, yes.” Edér looked tired.

“Gaun _touched_ me,” repeated Xoti, mostly to herself.

“We’ll talk to the queen in Neketaka,” said Vailond.

“And the hazanui,” Maia said firmly.

“And the Director, of course,” said Pallegina.

“I have to think.” She went back to her cabin. She kicked her boots off to dump on top of the trap door. She lay down and thought about running with Tyrhos, a long way away from here.

*

Queen Onekaza. Director Castol. The Hazanui. And Captain Aeldys, who made Serafen tense like a mandolin string. Everybody wanted to know about Eothas. Everybody wanted to know who was going to lost Ukaizo to meet with him.

Someone had talked. Everyone knew about his plans for the Wheel. Damn.

And they all wanted someone to rush to Ukaizo to stop Eothas destroying the ordered cycle of death and rebirth. Or, more likely, to loot the place. On that idea alone, Vailond wanted to protect it. Vailond made no promises.

“Bring the Wahaki to me and together we will sail in strength to Ukaizo.”

“Lovesome, it’s simple. I need to unravel the puzzle of the Floating Hangman…it’d take you nicely.”

“The Rauatai are ready to assist. Just help us to repair.”

“The Republics would gladly place you under our protection.”

Colonists, pirates, or the woman who had already made a power play on her once. Vailond’s entire crew eyed her appraisingly.

Well, Vailond should know about colonists. She was Aedyran, after all, and Dyrwoodan by transplant. But now she looked at the marvels of Neketaka, the sculptures, the baths, the buildings…Vailond would not like to see these things swept away.

She could not decide.

She waited for the room to clear out, and was not surprised when the Queen stayed in her own throne room.

“So,” Vailond said tiredly. “What do you get out of being the one to back me?”

“Our culture,” she said. “Our identity. Will you allow us to help you?”

“Do you have the strength?”

“Not on our own. Not to rediscover Ukaizo and protect the islands by ourselves at once. We must have help.”

“There’re only twenty of us,” said Vailond.

“No. I refer to the Wahaki.”

Another tribe. Great warriors. Vailond’s heart stirred. If the Roparu could be fed, if the islands could be preserved – if the beauty could be sustained – if the fight really wasn’t gone from the Huana—

“I need to think about it.”

“I give you run of the Ambassador’s Estate her in Serpent’s crown. Rest. Think, but think quickly.”

Maia fell in step with her on the way out. “Tired yet?”

“You have no idea.”

“The Huana aren’t cohesive enough to do this. Help me with a few things and I know the Royal Deadfire Company would help you. We have the will and the firepower.”

“Oh? Where does your demand start?”

Maia’s mouth thinned. “I was given certain messages to deliver. If there’s time in our preparations….”

“Where do you need to go?”

“Port Maje, to start.”

“Oh,” said Vailond, flinching. “I see.”

So the Queen loaned them an estate for their use and probable spying. Vailond didn’t even look at the sleeping accommodations. She called everyone to the garden at the center, what she heard called the atrium.

The atrium cupped bank after bank of blue spiked flowers. A fountain spilled from a stone ewer off the second story's balcony and over an abstract round statue. Wicker chairs were movable across the length of the garden paths. It all gave a lovely air of calm.

The mood, as Vailond stalked from the back of one chair to another, was neither lovely nor calm.

“We have time,” she said thickly.

“Did he mention that?” said Aloth.

“I know. He’ll wait for me.”

“Is he going to let four angry fleets catch up in the meantime?” said Edér. “Seems counterproductive.”

“Well we need one of those. We’re stuck,” she said, “until we do another favor.”

“The Republics have the resources to improve the Defiant and form a guard to Ukaizo,” said Pallegina. “Believe me, their requirements are modest.”

“As modest as their courage,” said Maia. “The Royal Deadfire Company has been facing down the worst of the Archipelago for years. They have the discipline and dedication to see this through.”

“I understand what you must think of the Huana,” said Tekēhu, looking at her with sad black eyes.

“It be possible to pay off a debt to the Príncipi,” said Serafen. “And that you can’t say for any other faction in these waters.”

“I’m not deciding today,” she snapped. “Don’t you understand that? No. I’m taking care of us first.”

Edér put up his hands as if surrendering or pushing. “Vail, that’s nice, but we do have a god on the loose.”

“And can you and I affect his pace? No. I want you to go with Maia to Port Maje.”

His eyebrows shot up, but he instantly understood. “She might be able to track a wolf.”

“My thoughts exactly. He should go with you, he likes you.”

“Tyrhos?” said Maia. “Capture not kill. And I’ll deliver my message. I don’t have a problem with that.”

“Fine. Pallegina, Aloth, I’d like you to take passage for Dunnage.”

Aloth paled. “You want me to negotiate with the Príncipi?”

“No, I want you to help Pallegina with the people who kidnapped Giacolo.”

Pallegina started. “Vailond, that is not….”

Vailond looked at her. Pallegina did not object further.

“If you have time, see what Furrante and the others want from me.”

“That may not be what Aeldys wants,” cautioned Serafen.

“No, but Furrante gave me you. In a way I’m already in his debt.”

“Don’t think I be currency,” he muttered.

“That’s not what I meant.”

His green eyes fixed her. “Well, then,” he said. “What’s a man got to do to pay off his assignment?”

“Don’t. I’d like you to stay in Neketaka and oversee a refit of the _Defiant_. Better than before. We’re going to need the toughest hull and the finest sails we can afford.”

“So…matchsticks?” said Edér. “Or did we strike it rich?”

Vailond shot him a dirty look. “One of these shiny new allies will help finance, I’m sure. Xoti, I’d like you to stay in Neketaka, too. See what information and supplies we can get out of all those people who worship the guy we’re chasing. If you can help with the cargo the _Defiant_ ’s picked up…hell, we could bring out food for the Roparu if you want.”

“That sounds fine,” said Xoti, her eyes sparkling.

“Right. Next.” She looked at Tekēhu. “We need to talk.”

“Wolf-stealing and pirate-herding. These are outside my experience, my friend.”

“Everyone, please go,” said Vailond. “There’s no time. Tekēhu, stay with me.”

People tried to talk to her, more than one at once. Vailond covered her ears and pitched forward, bending over double. She couldn’t deal with this. She couldn’t deal with her feelings, or nation-states’ opinions, or requests, endless requests.

She looked up. Only Tekēhu remained.

He smiled shakily at her. “Ekera, you look like a kraken has crossed your bow.”

“I’m tired,” she said.

He knelt before her, now silver eyes glimmering. “You asked me to stay.”

“I thought you might travel with me,” she said.

“Where to?”

“I don’t know. Out of Neketaka. Some little island? I just want to talk.”

“A curious invitation, I say. Let us speak further of this in the evening.”

“Let’s meet at the docks in an hour. There’s no time…there is never any time. I need to get some supplies before we go.”

As soon as he was gone she moved.

She turned the corner into the alley that would take her to the far edge of the block. She didn’t much want main street traffic just then.

Serafen jingled behind her. He loved to do these little distinctive things. Enough that she would not fail to notice him.

“Not another word, eh?” he said.

She turned. She looked at him. He was short, and his green eyes looked emerald in the indirect light, and his smile now had a little fang in it.

“Didn’t think you would take up so quick with a godlike,” he said. “All those…parts.”

She needed to understand the Huana and their representative. She needed to understand what an artist could possibly do for her. She needed to prove that she could live without Edér or Aloth or, yes, even Serafen. One by one she had swept them off her deck and out of her heart. She was about to show everyone.

She didn’t say anything. Serafen came to her. “No defense? That’s not like you.”

“I don’t have to defend needing space.”

“You picked a right funny fellow defender, but you already knew that.” He grabbed her hips and swung-slammed her into the coarse wooden wall. Hard, pushing, forcing his tongue, driving his hands. Vailond arched into it. Braced, she shuddered and almost remembered something out past the horizon of his body and chose, wonderfully, not to remember it at all.

“Yes,” she sighed, ready for him to name the game.

Abruptly he took his tongue from her mouth, his hands from her behind. He grinned toothily. “Just checking,” he said, and swaggered away toward where she had sent him.

Vailond fumbled with her breath throughout the hard process of understanding time again. Just checking whether he could still take her breath away. This separation was supposed to make things simpler. No clinging, no regrets, certainly no wholesale flood of pleasure every time he touched her.

Serafen was already around the corner and gone. He always did think following her orders was funny. She didn’t realize then, nor the next day, nor until he was half the Deadfire away, that really what he was ‘just checking’ was whether she would call him back.


	14. Scatter: Old Friends and Seafolk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond's crew does what's needed before the mission to Ukaizo: Aloth and Pallegina find an old friend, Edér and Maia send and receive messages, and Vailond and Tekēhu spend a little time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Italics_ are lines from the game.

The _Defiant_ lay at dock. Soon it would be up in Zamar’s care, where he would once again try to fix up a ship that could barely survive the ocean’s normal wave.

Tekēhu walked as quietly as he could, his hard bare feet steady on the salty wooden dock, but Vailond turned while he was still several paces away. Her short red hair fought against itself in the breeze from the water. Her blue eyes pierced. “Tekēhu.”

“Vailond.” He had felt the sadness in her since she had chosen to bind the dragon to the watershapers’ will. He was complicit in that. It was a burden he wished she hadn’t taken. Wished she hadn’t had to take. Shouldn’t he be grateful on behalf of his people? No. She wouldn’t take his thanks anyway.

So no, he didn’t smile. “A tour de force, I say. You have persuaded a pit of snakes not to bite anyone.”

“Until I find them a big enough heel,” said Vailond. “Did you say there was some little island we could go to?”

“To do what? Talk of the future of the Huana?”

“No. To look at water.”

“Ekera, we could….” He trailed off. She waited attentively. It was a significant thing, to be watched by Vailond. “I know a reef, by a small island. It is peaceful, and not too distant.”

“Out of sight of all this?”

“Yes.”

“Take me.”

Perplexed but willing to go for a nice trip, Tekēhu led Vailond down a steep staircase and out to a little cove used only by watershapers. He went for his vessel and stopped when Vailond did. “Yes?” he said.

“What’s that?”

Tekēhu released the sail on the mast of the little hull balanced by an offset float. “An outrigger canoe.”

She eyed the slim canoe, the carved float, the slender mast. “Are you sure about this?”

“Has the ocean ever led me wrong? Come, you can cling to the mast if it makes you feel better.”

“I’m from a forest,” the elf said flatly.

“A place that stays forever still. What manner of life is that?”

“A safe one.”

“Your forests never had dangers? Your hunts were never without peril?”

“At least the ground stayed in the same place moment to moment.”

“This is your excursion, my lady. Tell me and we stop.” But he kept moving, and little Vailond crept to the canoe’s body to ease in and kneel close to the center. Nervous she was, but sensible.

He pushed the canoe out and hopped onto it. When he took one paddle, Vailond took the other and they paddled out into a stiff breeze.

“Perfect,” said Tekēhu, accepting the wind that was his divine mother’s left hand. “Hold this still for me.” She took the rope he handed her like she intended to face down the apocalypse with it. Well, she was a serious type. And maybe in a few weeks there would be an apocalypse to face down.

Just a thought as he tied off the rope and dropped to sit cross-legged facing her. “Ekera, I was not fully expecting you to drop everything and come with me.”

“Eothas isn’t done moving. I have time. And…we’ll get back to the others.”

“But do you want to? You’re a mystery to me, captain. Your eyes and your mouth so rarely agree.”

Vailond shut her mouth. She glared at Tekēhu.

“Then again, sometimes they do. Is this is Aedyran seduction…?”

Her sneer said she wouldn’t play. The canoe ran fleetly ahead of the cooperative wind, and it passed up and down ocean heaves with a life of its own. “Is watershaping ever fun for you?” she said.

“Well…yes, it is. I would do it even if I didn’t have tutors and requirements. It is a gift I would not quickly waste.”

“It shows up in your work. How much you like it. How…creative, you are.”

“You flatter me.”

“I mean it. If I could…” she waved her hand over the rolling water… “I don’t think I would ever stop playing.”

“Would that I could grant you that freedom.”

“You’ll have to use it for me.”

Tekēhu looked for the insight, for the moment when a woman supposedly made mostly of water would become clear. “Where is your home, land-fish?”

“I kept a castle in the Dyrwood.” The answer was instant and heartfelt. “Caed Nua. It wasn’t the biggest place, but it was mine, and my friends could visit.”

“But you were called away by Eothas.”

“Eothas crawled out of my basement, destroyed the castle, killed my friends, and strolled down to the Deadfire.”

“No wonder you cling so to the survivors.”

“ _I don’t need them_.”

“Ah, I did not mean to say you did.” In all this, was it her affection that made her most afraid? Surely not. She was among friends.

Vailond hugged herself and looked at the gray line of the horizon.

“It is not solitude you crave, as I thought. It is a pack, and a forest large enough to get lost _with_ them.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But it does! You pushed away everyone who loves you and ran off with a stranger, and for what? To prove that you can?”

She didn’t deny it. “People were getting…attached. I’m a walking catastrophe and they’re attached. I need them to know they won’t need me.”

“But me? What for?”

“Hm.” She worried her lip with her teeth. “Because I think you’ve asked yourself the same question. Look at us. Special, not because we wanted to be. How can we help anybody?”

“A moment at a time. Together, not apart.” Tekēhu pointed. “There is our little reef. Did you seek passage to this specific island in all the world to give up?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She took her paddle and did her part. “If I were going to, it would have to be someplace nobody can find me. And you, well, you’re right here.”

“And not budging until you do.”

“I didn’t ask to be like this.”

“I understand that.”

She shook her head, hard, and studied him with greater care, her eyes darker than the sky and brighter than the sea and more immediate than both. “Do they ask you to set the world in order?”

“I am meant to be the savior of my people. Ngati’s favorite, a sign…not quite a leader. The inspiration standing beside a leader.”

“Do you want to be a king?”

“No, I say! I want to eat well and make beautiful things, and discuss them with beautiful people.”

“But that’s not what the world handed you.”

“I understand.”

The water was a jewelled green in the shallow around the little crescent of white sand. There was only one approach that would deliver them between the colorful reef. Tekēhu guided them in and drew the canoe up so Vailond could step off.

She squatted to slap at a wave. “I didn’t come here to ask you for anything,” she said. “Except some stuff about your hobbies, I guess.”

“I am glad to oblige such questions.”

“Would you make something that makes you happy?”

“Here? Us? For what?”

“For fun. Only if you want to.” She straightened and looked away as though she had been caught in something shameful.

“Happy?” he said. “For fun?” He gestured with both hands and a head-sized blob of water separated itself from the shallows. It wriggled and shimmered in the light, then straightened into a fish. Then separated in half and clapped back together with a definite “phthbbblb.”

“Did you just make that fish fart?” said Vailond.

Tekēhu laughed. “You asked for it, my friend.”

She looked serious. “Can you make them fart continuously in your sculptures?”

“A question I have never had occasion to answer,” he said, feigning thoughtfulness. “The guildmaster might try to strip me of my citizenship.”

“The guildmaster could use more people like you.”

“Ah.” That brought them around to the real question. “You are testing my people through me.”

“I don’t expect you to represent them.” So matter-of-fact.

“But…the rangas. The priests. They can be useful to you.”

She shrugged. “If they can’t get through to a god, they can wait.” She frowned at him. “Do you not want to talk to me?”

“I said nothing of the sort! To be frank it is…surprising, that you should choose a child of Ngati and not extend his relevance to her people.”

“Do you think I speak for Eothas’s followers?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then I don’t think of you and Ngati. You are an artist, and you said you wanted to help.”

“Elegantly simple, when stated so.”

“It’s good enough, you know. I could be your friend, Tekēhu of the Huana.”

“An honor. Your loyalties shine like golden wires. Your face conceals, your words evade…but your heart beats close to the surface, I say.”

She blushed and looked away. It was just them, a canoe, a curve of white sand, a sparkling medley of things beneath the water…and ever the sky above.

“The wind is picking up,” said Tekēhu. “We will not return to Neketaka until it turns.”

Vailond sat on the sand. On closer look it was composed of tiny white shells, broken down into a fine powder. She let the wind take a lick of it away. “I can wait,” she said.

“Ekera, I believe you, but a tent, even a blanket? Surely you are accustomed to better accommodations than this.”

She lay back and pillowed her head on her palms. “Just stars,” she said. “The ocean has horizons…it’s like I can see the whole world at once.”

Tekēhu sat a respectful distance away. “As you wish. This is far enough from the guild’s expectations.”

“Are you happy with that?”

“Ekera, I believe I am. Would you like to see where the wind takes us tomorrow? I know the currents here well, we would be in no danger.”

“I’d like that. Hey, can you make the farting fish again?”

Tekēhu laughed. “I shame my entire profession,” but he did it.

*

The day in Port Maje was young but already warm. The rutted path around the brown town center still had glistening mud in its deepest gashes. A couple more wagons had brought bright booths to the town’s center. The docks seethed with laborers, and Edér and Maia, easily as tall as most of the workers, walked toward the Kraken’s Eye for a taste of something, anything other than their courier ship’s stores.

Maia tensed within seconds of entry. “There. My message is for her.” She jerked her head toward a tired-looking aumaua.

Edér walked with her. The recipient took Maia’s metal cylinder with its secret secret contents, and complained of being watched. Edér stopped for a drink. Maia was looking shifty, and she left alone and came back alone.

“No longer a problem,” she said levelly. “Take care of yourself.” She looked to Edér. “So let’s see about your problem.”

Edér walked with her toward the quagmire path that led toward Vilario’s rest.

“So here’s what I don’t understand,” Edér said affably. “Why did you want to be seen making these deliveries with Vail?”

“The optics couldn't hurt.”

“Sorry, I'm just the bear.”

“Atsuro won't mind the difference. Much.”

“Your…correspondence guy.”

“He sends a lot of…letters.”

“What do you tell him about her?”

“Nothing that isn’t public.”

“Right. That’s convenient.”

“Were you trying to find a wolf?”

He stretched and let it lie. “Tyrhos got off the boat when it ran aground at Vilario’s Rest. There’s thick forest on all land sides there. We should start there. Keep an eye out for bite marks low on smooth-boled trees.”

“Why? We’re not chasing a beaver.”

“No. We’re chasing a wolf who left marks for his companion when it was safe to follow.”

“You’re making him sound like a person.”

“Like Ishi? Tyrhos is smart. Vail’s earthy. They kind of meet in the middle.”

“No wonder you like her so much.”

“Old friend but a good one.”

The path they were following led into a thick stand of trees that stretched off in either direction. Edér kept his eyes on the tree bases.

“There,” said Maia. “Little mark.”

“Not always easy to spot. Nice.” He plunged into the forest. “Tyrhos!” he said at full power. Maia jumped and stared at him.

“Are you crazy?” she said. “You’ve scared away every animal for a quarter mile!”

“Except the one who knows when I call his name,” said Edér. “He’ll hear me.”

“Something big came this way,” she said critically. “Look, another bite. Your Tyrhos is leading us right to him.”

The forest was thick and stuffy. Signs of passage were few and sometimes a little smudged. Edér shouted again, and again.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve known Vail a while.”

“Already noted.”

“I’m just saying, a little more insight can’t be a bad thing. You really want to know her? Well, first of all, don't let the accent fool you. She's Dyrwoodan to the soul. Why, once in Caed Nua—I have to back up to tell this. It was a fine day, the kind of fine you tell your kids about when you reminisce about the old days. Caed Nua was built to a T and Vail liked it that way. Hey-o, Tyrhos! So after a really good lunch—sandwiches, the kind with prime rib and not too many veggies—Vail went inside the grand hall and sat down on her throne—she had a smaller one installed, the old one made her look like a six-year-old—and she called the court to order. Now, in those days—are you getting this? Tyrhos!—"

He went on in this vein for the space of maybe five minutes. Or seven. Or ten.

“Is this coming to a point?” Maia grated.

“What? Oh, no. I just wanted to see how long I could go before you stopped me.” He beamed. “Hey. Gun down.”

The shadow blobbed free of the shadows of the trees and grew and became furry and enormous. Maia was raising her gun. “Hold fire,” managed Edér, before the gray wolf launched itself from the forest and planted its feet on Edér’s shoulders and bore him down to the ground. The back of his head hit soft leaves. Tyrhos, maybe more white than last time, licked his face furiously. “Tyrhos!” Edér pushed and wrestled playfully, then lay back and put his hands over his head. “Easy, boy. Come on. There’s someone waiting for you.”

Tyrhos backed up to let Edér sit up. The wolf jumped from side to side and lowered his head to let out a deep whine.

“That’s it, boy! Oh, you’re a good dog.” He buried his fingers in the thick fur at Tyrhos’ neck and scritched like mad. “I already know what to steal from the mess to feed you. You will make Vail so happy.”

Tyrhos whuffed at the sound of her name. Then he leaped past Edér and vanished into the woods.

Maia swore under her breath and started running, Edér close behind, but Tyrhos was very, very fast, and he navigated these woods like they made a paved straightaway.

After a minute Maia slowed. “So what does that mean?” she said.

“If he wanted us following he’d slow down,” said Edér. “He wants me to know he’s okay. Beyond that…? I don’t know. He doesn’t want to go with us right now. Maybe if Vail herself were here.” Edér grinned. “He’s alive. I hoped so…but it’s different, knowing. Oh, good boy.”

*

Pallegina walked stiffly among the Dunnage warehouses. The pirate stronghold did business in a number of places from a number of ships. She couldn’t get comfortable.

Aloth, on the other hand, launched into conversations with the dedication of a career glad-hander. Of course. He had been investigating for five years. The looks he gave here were alternately sheepish and tired, but he persevered.

And he got her a place.

The floppy-hat boy outside the back door of a big warren of a building held out one little hand. “Stop. Turn around and go about your business.”

“My business is inside,” Pallegina said flatly. “Captain Tatzatl is in there. I must be as well.”

She realized something. The boy’s sleeves, not quite long enough for his arms, revealed velvety green markings. His face under the hat’s long brim was outlined in brown twigs. If she pulled that hat away she had a feeling she would find the bark and horns of a lunar godlike.

She steeled herself. “Can you not see what I am? Let me pass.”

Aloth looked the boy in the eye. “Do you know what I am?”

The boy eyed Aloth’s satchel. “Not that much, I say.”

“I am a wizard. Do you understand why you should let me and my friend in?”

The boy looked skeptical. “I bet that sword’s not even real. You won’t hurt me.”

“I don’t have to hurt you.” Pallegina stopped with her sword a couple of inches out. Aloth held perfectly still. “Nevertheless, I suggest you let us in.”

Aloth waved his hand. A collection of soft blobs of color began to float in front of the boy’s face. The boy dropped his attitude and stared.

“The key,” said Aloth. Pallegina rushed to draw the key from the bracelet where the boy held it. “Done.” He looked more sheepish than ever. She’d had no idea Aloth had gotten this…effective.

They walked into a wide room, a small warehouse’s worth. Half a dozen people stood and paid attention. One glowing red, one eyeless with brown plates, two scaled like fishes, one red-feathered, one with a moon’s horns.

That one stood. “Who are you?” he said ponderously.

A room full of people like her. Her stomach was crawling circles in her body. Pallegina took a deep breath and then declaimed in perfect form. “The animancer Giacolo, a citizen of the Vailian Republics, has been unlawfully detained. I am here to restore his freedom.”

“A friend of the animancer Giacolo.” His voice was deep and stubbornly slow. “We stand at a crossroads. The ultimate course will be determined by you. By the Branching Path of Atleha.” He produced a wax tablet and a stone marker.

“A game, Captain?”

“Guidance, madam.” He started asking questions. Pointed questions, obviously about the godlike, though Pallegina wasn’t always certain what he meant. She answered honestly. Against killing children for mercy, and against destroying knowledge that would only come up again under someone else’s control.

“I see.” He made a last mark on his tablet. “ _Your path has led to this conclusion. We will release Giacolo, but his research must be destroyed.”_

Pallegina scowled. “Unacceptable! Giacolo has done much good for me, and for all the godlike who seek a normal life.”

“What does normal mean? Anything other than what we were born as?”

“I don’t know.”

“ _Giacolo has discovered a method by which one may detect a godlike fetus in a mother’s womb_. You see why we may find this too dangerous to let loose.”

“All the better to help them.”

“And how many frightened parents will think of help first?”

“Do you have such a jaded view of the world?”

“Do you not?”

Pallegina rocked back on her heels. She couldn’t subdue the entire room. Even Aloth couldn’t, even if he wanted to. “Fine. I will take Giacolo. I will leave you his writings. But do not interfere with the Republics again.”

“I want no fight. With you least of all.”

“Don’t pretend we have something special in common.” Pallegina gestured for Giacolo, and the little man cringingly navigated the warehouse and came to join her. Together the three stepped into the sunlight.

Giacolo turned. “Pallegina, my friend.”

“Did they hurt you?” It wasn’t too late to charge back in.

“No. I was treated well. Separated from my notes…there is so much I would have to reconstruct.”

“If you resume your research you will never be safe outside the Republics again.”

“And if I recant it, I can make no difference for you and people like you.”

“You do not have to flatter a grown woman.”

“Men more suave than I would disagree. Who is your friend?”

“Ah. This is Aloth Corfiser, an old friend from my Dyrwoodan days.”

“You went to the Dyrwood?”

“Briefly. Aloth, Giacolo, my friend. He was kind to me at a time when few people were.”

“Then I am pleased to meet you.” Aloth nodded a little deeper than usual. “Are we finished here?”

Giacolo hefted a small canvas bag. “I have everything a non-researcher needs.”

“We should check in with the Captains,” said Pallegina.

“I was afraid you would say that,” muttered Aloth.

“Vailond sent us as a show of strength. You and I keep our word and cannot be bought. We are the polar opposite of these individuals. Let us use that.”

“You are very good at what you do, Pallegina.”

“It was you who opened the door.” She smiled. “Shall we?”

*

The three walked up toward the grand fortress. Pallegina and Giacolo exchanged words in Vailian. Aloth could catch the gist of it maybe every three sentences.

Pallegina startled him. “Aloth. Are you troubled?”

“No more than usual.”

“You stare at nothing. You have stumbled twice.”

He waved a dismissive hand, but he said it. “She’s out there with _that_ godlike.”

“Innocently.”

“Oh?”

“I have watched her fall in love.”

“So have I, Pallegina.”

“And how disinterested were you? Tekēhu is not the object of her attentions.”

“You realize she can dally with more than one man at once.”

“Again, how disinterested? I do not think she sees her actual affair as a dalliance.”

“But he does.”

Pallegina did not answer that. It was a grim win.

The door to the fortress was open. More unsettling, an ill-favored slouch of a man recognized him and disappeared inside. He came back out, talking through a plug of Berath’s bell. “The Cap’n will speak with you now.”

The court of the Príncipi centered on a circle of chairs. Aloth noted with satisfaction that Benweth had not been replaced. Aeldys, too, was missing. A fortuitous accident. Aeldys was spikier, and while Vailond might admire that, she would be better off with someone slightly more bound by courtesy.

“Captain Furrante,” said Aloth. “I bring you greetings from the captain of the _Defiant_.”

The man ran a fingertip alone the brim of his tricorn hat. “Very intriguing.”

Pallegina stepped forward. “You don’t have any more excess crew, do you?”

Furrante laughed loudly. “Did you already break the last one?”

“He is well,” said Aloth. And, assuming Furrante would appreciate it, “We even feed him.”

The pained joke paid off. Furrante clapped. “Let it never be said that Captain Vailond Dugauer is not a gentleman. Come, what brings her most fearsome enforcers to the Príncipi’s doorstep?”

Enforcers? Pallegina, yes, surely, but Aloth just made proximate threats uncomfortable. And sometimes on fire. Still, he had to press on before Pallegina had mustered another round. He thought of hostile villages, cities that did not accept him or his errand, camps turning deadly in an instant because he had said the wrong word. Careful.

“You have heard of the mission to Ukaizo,” said Aloth. Imminent need might hold his attention.

Furrante leaned forward in his seat, resting a forearm on his knee. “Mayhap I have.”

“Captain Vailond requires more than the _Defiant_ for the assault. We believe we could be of mutual aid in getting there.”

“Does Aeldys know this?”

“Only that we must choose a faction, and quickly. She has not made a compelling argument.”

“So you come to me. I am impressed, and flattered, and deeply intrigued. As it happens, I have considered the probable costs of sailing to Ukaizo.”

“How can we make them acceptable?”

“Perhaps you’ve heard tell of the Floating Hangman.”

Pallegina scoffed. “And the Buskewigger who hides under children’s beds at night. What of it?”

“It’s no children’s tale. The seas of the Deadfire are haunted by this cursed ship and its dead crew. There be precious few clues as to what brought her to be and why she continues on the waves. But we have one lead. The captain, Lucia Rivan. She will come to whomever speaks her oath over the sword of the unliving Yseyr the Berathian.”

Pallegina’s hand tightened around her sword’s grip. Aloth coughed quietly. It was claptrap, but it was claptrap they had to be polite about. She inclined her head a degree and lessened her grip.

“The sepulcher lies under Neketaka itself,” droned Furrante. “I hear tell no one goes in or comes out from among those tombs. Yet there is Yseyr, and there is the blade he guards.”

“Why us?” said Pallegina, evidently glad to be done with the briefing. “Why not some of your several thousand pirate friends? Is it that dangerous?”

“Good lady, you misunderstand. I do not want a ship. I want an alliance. The ship is merely the instrument.”

“We will bring your words to Captain Vailond,” said Aloth. “She has always considered you an ally.”

“Mutual,” purred Furrante. “Send her my respectful regards.” As if he had any idea what ‘respectful’ was. Pirates, for all their flowery language, were blackguards and rogues to a man. Why Vailond couldn’t see that he would never—

“Walk,” whispered Pallegina, touching his elbow. Together they walked out to the sunlight.

*

“How’s the ship doing?” said Xoti.

Serafen looked up from his ale and grinned, cocky and bright. “She be coming along. With a few ‘gifts’ from the major powers we’ll have her in tip-top shape.”

“You think Vail will ever try to get a bigger ship?”

“Why would she? She has her chosen company, namely you and me and the like. She doesn’t strike me as the type to expand a circle if she already has one that works.”

Xoti sat. “Will it be enough to reach Eothas again?”

“Where be your legendary faith, lass? If Vail thinks she has enough, she has enough. Won’t you be happy to meet your god again?”

“I still don’t know what to do with the souls I’ve gathered for him.”

“Vail will sort that out. Mind you me, now that we know our next steps she’ll have plenty of brains left over to help with your nightmares.” He narrowed his eyes. “There were nightmares, weren’t there.”

“They’re getting worse,” Xoti said in a small voice.

“She told me once about being a Watcher before she learned to control it. Somebody peeled back her eyelid and there she was watching all of history. She sorted it out. So can you.” That was about the limit of his theology.

Xoti smiled winsomely. “You really trust her, don’t you?”

Serafen chuckled, scratching one ear. “I know better than to mistake her for a swabbie, and that’s a fact.”

“Do you think she can really get us to Ukaizo? I mean, lost Ukaizo. Will there be more gods there?”

“She’ll dress them down, too.” No matter what trouble that brought down. And if he had to go out? Doing it shooting a god in the jewels didn’t sound so bad. Oh, but the choir girl didn’t want to hear that.

“Thirsty?” he said, and pushed it all away. He could talk to her a while. If that got too annoying, there was a perfectly good ship coming up where he could inspect it.

*

Later, alone, Serafen thought.

It would be nice if Vailond would leave word that he could keep the _Defiant_. Sure, he was her first mate, but the bumpkin or the prefect might count themselves close enough to her to make a claim. Then again, they might return to a larger landmass, and then, well, Serafen had his own ship.

The thought was lacking in zest.

He didn’t want ageless fidelity, and gods knew he wasn’t much for goodbyes either, but…he listened for her step in the common room, and looked for her around discreet corners when slipping through less frequented areas. He knew Xoti was expecting to see Vailond again, and maybe the lass was right. It would be nice, to burn that candle just a little more. But women had left him before. This was nothing.

Days passed. The _Defiant_ melted in drydock and was rebuilt stronger than before. He thought about where he would go first. Maybe he could find more of the _Sorcerer_ ’s old crew. Wouldn’t that be fine?

*

It was when the _Defiant_ slid back into the water that Serafen felt her, like a whisper behind his head, the symphony of an awakened soul. He turned around and there Vailond was, clutching her bag over her shoulder, smiling.

Mindful, he stayed still until she reached him. “How are you?” she said, seemingly unoffended.

“You came back,” he said.

“Of course I did.” Simple, grounded. Welcome.

“I don’t generally enjoy being wrong,” he said, grinning without opening. “This once, I’ll let it by.”

She smiled and tapped his shoulder. Two taps, pause, tap, pause, tap. That was what he used from then on, when coming up from the trap door. She let him in. Warily, noncommittally, away from their moments of tenderness…but she always let him in.


	15. Vailond's Scattered Errands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vail's crew scatters to assignments: Edér and Maia go to deliver messages and seek a wolf, Pallegina and Aloth deal with a renegade crew of godlike, Xoti and Serafen hold down the fort, and Vailond goes away with Tekēhu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Italics_ are lines from the game.

The _Defiant_ lay at dock. Soon it would be up in Zamar’s care, where he would once again try to fix up a ship that could barely survive the ocean’s normal wave.

Tekēhu walked as quietly as he could, his hard bare feet steady on the salty wooden dock, but Vailond turned while he was still several paces away. Her short red hair fought against itself in the breeze from the water. Her blue eyes pierced. “Tekēhu.”

“Vailond.” He had felt the sadness in her since she had chosen to bind the dragon to the watershapers’ will. He was complicit in that. It was a burden he wished she hadn’t taken. Wished she hadn’t had to take. Shouldn’t he be grateful on behalf of his people? No. She wouldn’t take his thanks anyway.

So no, he didn’t smile. “A tour de force, I say. You have persuaded a pit of snakes not to bite anyone.”

“Until I find them a big enough heel,” said Vailond. “Did you say there was some little island we could go to?”

“To do what? Talk of the future of the Huana?”

“No. To look at water.”

“Ekera, we could….” He trailed off. “I know a reef, by a small island. It is peaceful, and not too distant.”

“Out of sight?”

“Yes.”

“Take me.”

Perplexed but willing to go for a nice trip, Tekēhu led Vailond down a steep staircase and out to a little cove used only by watershapers. He went for his vessel and stopped when Vailond did. “Yes?” he said.

“What’s that?”

Tekēhu released the sail on the mast of the little hull balanced by an offset float. “An outrigger canoe.”

She eyed the slim canoe, the carved float, the slender mast. “Are you sure about this?”

“Has the ocean ever led me wrong? Come, you can cling to the mast if it makes you feel better.”

“I’m from a forest,” the elf said flatly.

“A place that stays forever still. What manner of life is that?”

“A safe one.”

“Your forests never had dangers? Your hunts were never without peril?”

“At least the ground stayed in the same place moment to moment.”

“This is your excursion, my lady. Tell me and we stop.” But he kept moving, and little Vailond crept to the canoe’s body to ease in and kneel close to the center. Nervous she was, but sensible.

He pushed the canoe out and hopped onto it. When he took one paddle, Vailond took the other and they paddled out into a stiff breeze.

“Perfect,” said Tekēhu, accepting the wind that was his divine mother’s left hand. “Hold this still for me.” She took the rope he handed her like she intended to face down the apocalypse with it. Well, she was a serious type. And maybe in a few weeks there would be an apocalypse to face down.

Just a thought as he tied off the rope and dropped to sit cross-legged facing her. “Ekera, I was not fully expecting you to drop everything and come with me.”

“Eothas isn’t done moving. I have time. And…the others will catch up.”

“But do you want them to? You’re a mystery to me, captain. Your eyes and your mouth so rarely agree.”

Vailond shut her mouth. She glared at Tekēhu.

“Then again, sometimes they do. Is this is Aedyran seduction…?”

Her sneer said she wouldn’t play. The canoe ran fleetly ahead of the cooperative wind, and it passed up and down ocean heaves with a life of its own. “Is watershaping ever fun for you?” she said.

“Well…yes, it is. I would do it even if I didn’t have tutors and requirements. It is a gift I would not quickly waste.”

“It shows up in your work. How much you like it. How…creative, you are.”

“You flatter me.”

“I mean it. If I could…” she waved her hand over the rolling water… “I don’t think I would ever stop playing.”

“Would that I could grant you that freedom.”

“You’ll have to use it for me.”

Tekēhu looked for the insight, for the moment when a woman supposedly made mostly of water would become clear. “Where is your home, land-fish?”

“I kept a castle in the Dyrwood.” The answer was instant and heartfelt. “Caed Nua. It wasn’t the biggest place, but it was mine, and my friends could visit.”

“But you were called away by Eothas.”

“Eothas crawled out of my basement, destroyed the castle, killed my friends, and strolled down to the Deadfire.”

“No wonder you cling so to the survivors.”

“ _I don’t need them_.”

“Ah, I did not mean to say you did.” In all this, was it her affection that made her most afraid? Surely not. She was among friends.

Vailond hugged herself and looked at the gray line on the horizon.

“It is not solitude you crave, as I thought. It is a pack, and a forest large enough to get lost _with_ them.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But it does! You pushed away everyone who loves you and ran off with a stranger, and for what? To prove that you can?”

She didn’t deny it. “People were getting…attached. I’m a walking catastrophe and they’re attached. I need them to know they won’t need me.”

“But me? What for?”

“Hm.” She worried her lip with her teeth. “Because I think you’ve asked yourself the same question. Look at us. Special, not because we wanted to be. How can we help anybody?”

“A moment at a time. Together, not apart. Did you come to this specific island in all the world to give up?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I were going to, it would have to be someplace nobody can find me. And you, well, you’re right here.”

“And not budging until you do.”

“I didn’t ask to be like this.”

“I understand that.”

She shook her head, hard, and studied him with greater care, her eyes darker than the sky and brighter than the sea and more immediate than both. “Do they ask you to set the world in order?”

“I am meant to be the savior of my people. Ngati’s favorite, a sign…not quite a leader. The inspiration standing beside a leader.”

“Do you want to be a king?”

“No, I say! I want to eat well and make beautiful things, and discuss them with beautiful people.”

“But that’s not what the world handed you.”

“I understand.”

Vailond squatted to slap at a wave. “I didn’t come here to ask you for anything,” she said. “Except some stuff about your hobbies, I guess.”

“I am glad to oblige such questions.”

“Would you make something that makes you happy?”

“Here? Us? For what?”

“For fun. Only if you want to.” She straightened and looked away as though she had been caught in something shameful.

“Happy?” he said. “For fun?” He gestured with both hands and a head-sized blob of water separated itself from the shallows. It wriggled and shimmered in the light, then straightened into a fish. Then separated in half and clapped back together with a definite “phthbbblb.”

“Did you just make that fish fart?” said Vailond.

Tekēhu laughed. “You asked for it, my friend.”

“Can you make them fart continuously in your sculptures?”

“A question I have never had occasion to answer,” he said, feigning thoughtfulness. “The guildmaster might try to strip me of my citizenship.”

“The guildmaster could use more people like you.”

“Ah. You are testing my people through me.”

“I don’t expect you to represent them.” So matter-of-fact.

“But…the rangas. The priests. They can be useful to you.”

She shrugged. “They can talk down a god. Or if they can’t, they can wait.” She frowned at him. “Do you not want to talk to me?”

“I said nothing of the sort! To be frank it is…surprising, that you should choose a child of Ngati and not extend his relevance to her people.”

“Do you think I speak for Eothas’s followers?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then I don’t think of you and Ngati. You are an artist, and you said you wanted to help.”

“Elegantly simple, when stated so.”

“It’s good enough, you know. I could be your friend, Tekēhu of the Huana.”

“How rarely you say that.”

“Do you know me?”

“Your loyalties shine like golden wires. Your face conceals, your words evade…but your heart beats close to the surface. There is someone you are missing even now.”

Her little smile fled. “An animal. A wolf. Tyrhos. I bonded with him in Aedyr, years ago. We were hunters together.”

“Hunters? Never fishermen, I suppose?”

“Only with sharpened sticks.”

“But this works! We will fish before you go home.” He clapped briskly. “Now. Your fisher wolf.”

“That’s all. When Eothas tore my soul he, he didn't recognize me any more. He attacked me…”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

“He's alive. He has to be. I will see him again. I just…don’t know when.”

“The wind is picking up,” said Tekēhu. “We will not return to Neketaka until it turns.”

Vailond sat on the sand. On closer look it was composed of tiny white shells, broken down into a fine powder. She let the wind take a lick of it away. “I can wait,” she said.

“Ekera, I believe you, but a tent, even a blanket? Surely you are accustomed to better accommodations than this.”

She lay back and pillowed her head on her palms. “Just stars,” she said. “The ocean has such horizons…it’s like I can see the whole world at once.”

Tekēhu sat a respectful distance away. “As you wish. This is far enough from the guild’s expectations.”

“Are you happy with that?”

“Ekera. I believe I am. Would you like to see where the wind takes us tomorrow? I know the currents here well, we would be in no danger.”

“I’d like that. Hey, can you make the farting fish again?”

Tekēhu laughed. “I shame my entire profession,” but he did it.

*

The day in Port Maje was young but already warm. The rutted path around the brown town center still had glistening mud in its deepest gashes. A couple more wagons had brought bright booths to the town’s center. The docks seethed with laborers, and Edér and Maia, easily as tall as most of the workers, walked toward the Kraken’s Eye for a taste of something, anything other than their courier ship’s stores.

Maia tensed within seconds of entry. “There. My message is for her.” She jerked her head toward a tired-looking aumaua.

Edér walked with her. The recipient took Maia’s metal cylinder with its secret secret contents, and complained of being watched. Edér stopped for a drink. Maia was looking shifty, and she left alone and came back alone.

“No longer a problem,” she said levelly. “Take care of yourself.” She looked to Edér. “So let’s see about your problem.”

Edér walked with her toward the quagmire path that led toward Vilario’s rest.

“So here’s what I don’t understand,” Edér said affably. “Why did you want to be seen making these deliveries with Vail?”

“The optics couldn't hurt.”

“Sorry, I'm just the bear.”

“Atsuro won't mind the difference. Much.”

“Your…correspondence guy.”

“He sends a lot of…letters.”

“What do you tell him about her?”

“Nothing that isn’t public.”

“Right. That’s convenient.”

“Were you trying to find a wolf?”

He stretched and let it lie. “Tyrhos got off the boat when it ran aground at Vilario’s Rest. There’s thick forest on all land sides there. We should start there. Keep an eye out for bite marks low on smooth-boled trees.”

“Why? We’re not chasing a beaver.”

“No. We’re chasing a wolf who left marks for his companion when it was safe to follow.”

“You’re making him sound like a person.”

“Tyrhos is smart. Vail’s earthy. They kind of meet in the middle.”

“No wonder you like her so much.”

“Old friend but a good one.”

The path they were following led into a thick stand of trees that stretched off in either direction. Edér kept his eyes on the tree bases.

“There,” said Maia. “Little mark.”

“Not always easy to spot. Nice.” He plunged into the forest. “Tyrhos!” he said at full power. Maia jumped and stared at him.

“Are you crazy?” she said. “You’ve scared away every animal for a quarter mile!”

“Except the one who knows when I call his name,” said Edér. “He’ll hear me.”

“Something big came this way,” she said critically. “Look, another bite. Your Tyrhos is leading us right to him.”

The forest was thick and stuffy. Signs of passage were few and sometimes a little smudged. Edér shouted again, and again.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve known Vail a while.”

“Already noted.”

“I’m just saying, a little more insight can’t be a bad thing. You really want to know her? Well, first of all, don't let the accent fool you. She's Dyrwoodan to the soul. Why, once in Caed Nua—I have to back up to tell this. It was a fine day, the kind of fine you tell your kids about when you reminisce about the old days. Caed Nua was built to a T and Vail liked it that way. Hey-o, Tyrhos! So after a really good lunch—sandwiches, the kind with prime rib and not too many veggies—Vail went inside the grand hall and sat down on her throne—she had a smaller one installed, the old one made her look like a six-year-old—and she called the court to order. Now, in those days—are you getting this? Tyrhos!—"

He went on in this vein for the space of maybe five minutes. Or seven. Or ten.

“Is this coming to a point?” Maia grated.

“What? Oh, no. I just wanted to see how long I could go before you stopped me.” He beamed. “Hey. Gun down.”

The shadow blobbed free of the shadows of the trees and grew and became furry and enormous. Maia was raising her gun. “Hold fire,” managed Edér, before the gray wolf launched itself from the forest and planted its feet on Edér’s shoulders and bore him down to the ground. The back of his head hit soft leaves. Tyrhos, maybe more white than last time, licked his face furiously. “Tyrhos!” Edér pushed and wrestled playfully, then lay back and put his hands over his head. “Easy, boy. Come on. There’s someone waiting for you.”

Tyrhos backed up to let Edér sit up. The wolf jumped from side to side and lowered his head to let out a deep whine.

“That’s it, boy! Oh, you’re a good dog.” He buried his fingers in the thick fur at Tyrhos’ neck and scritched like mad. “I already know what to steal from the mess to feed you. You will make Vail so happy.”

Tyrhos whuffed at the sound of her name. Then he leaped past Edér and vanished into the woods.

Maia swore under her breath and started running, Edér close behind, but Tyrhos was very, very fast, and he navigated these woods like they made a paved straightaway.

After a minute Maia slowed. “So what does that mean?” she said.

“If he wanted us following he’d slow down,” said Edér. “He wants me to know he’s okay. Beyond that…? I don’t know. He doesn’t want to go with us right now. Maybe if Vail herself were here.” Edér grinned. “He’s alive. I hoped so…but it’s different, knowing. Oh, good boy.”

*

Pallegina walked stiffly among the Dunnage warehouses. The pirate stronghold did business in a number of places from a number of ships. She couldn’t get comfortable.

Aloth, on the other hand, launched into conversations with the dedication of a career glad-hander. Of course. He had been investigating for five years. The looks he gave here were alternately sheepish and tired, but he persevered.

And he got her a place.

The floppy-hat boy outside the back door of a big warren of a building held out one little hand. “Stop. Turn around and go about your business.”

“My business is inside,” Pallegina said flatly. “Captain Tatzatl is in there. I must be as well.”

She realized something. The boy’s sleeves, not quite long enough for his arms, revealed velvety green markings. His face under the hat’s long brim was outlined in brown twigs. If she pulled that hat away she had a feeling she would find the bark and horns of a lunar godlike.

She steeled herself. “Can you not see what I am? Let me pass.”

Aloth looked the boy in the eye. “Do you know what I am?”

The boy eyed Aloth’s satchel. “Not that much, I say.”

“I am a wizard. Do you understand why you should let me and my friend in?”

The boy looked skeptical. “I bet that sword’s not even real. You won’t hurt me.”

“I don’t have to hurt you.” Pallegina stopped with her sword a couple of inches out. Aloth held perfectly still. “Nevertheless, I suggest you let us in.”

Aloth waved his hand. A collection of soft blobs of color began to float in front of the boy’s face. The boy dropped his attitude and stared.

“The key,” said Aloth. Pallegina rushed to draw the key from the bracelet where the boy held it. “Done.” She’d had no idea Aloth had gotten this…effective.

They walked into a wide room, a small warehouse’s worth. Half a dozen people stood and paid attention. One glowing red, one eyeless with brown plates, two scaled like fishes, one red-feathered, one with a moon’s horns.

That one stood. “Who are you?” he said ponderously.

A room full of people like her. Her stomach was crawling circles in her body. Pallegina took a deep breath and then declaimed in perfect form. “The animancer Giacolo, a citizen of the Vailian Republics, has been unlawfully detained. I am here to restore his freedom.”

“A friend of the animancer Giacolo.” His voice was deep and stubbornly slow. “We stand at a crossroads. The ultimate course will be determined by you. By the Branching Path of Atleha.” He produced a wax tablet and a stone marker.

“A game, Captain?”

“Guidance, madam.” He started asking questions. Pointed questions, obviously about the godlike, though Pallegina wasn’t always certain what he meant. She answered honestly. Against killing children for mercy, and against destroying knowledge that would only come up again under someone else’s control.

“I see.” He made a last mark on his tablet. “ _Your path has led to this conclusion. We will release Giacolo, but his research must be destroyed.”_

Pallegina scowled. “Unacceptable! Giacolo has done much good for me, and for all the godlike who seek a normal life.”

“What does normal mean? Anything other than what we were born as?”

“I don’t know.”

“ _Giacolo has discovered a method by which one may detect a godlike fetus in a mother’s womb_. You see why we may find this too dangerous to let loose.”

“All the better to help them.”

“And how many frightened parents will think of help first?”

“Do you have such a jaded view of the world?”

“Do you not?”

Pallegina rocked back on her heels. She couldn’t subdue the entire room. Even Aloth couldn’t, even if he wanted to. “Fine. I will take Giacolo. I will leave you his writings. But do not interfere with the Republics again.”

“I want no fight. With you least of all.”

“Don’t pretend we have something special in common.” Pallegina gestured for Giacolo, and the little man cringingly navigated the warehouse and came to join her. Together the three stepped into the sunlight.

Giacolo turned. “Pallegina, my friend.”

“Did they hurt you?” It wasn’t too late to charge back in.

“No. I was treated well. Separated from my notes…there is so much I would have to reconstruct.”

“If you resume your research you will never be safe outside the Republics again.”

“And if I recant it, I can make no difference for you and people like you.”

“You do not have to flatter a grown woman.”

“Men more suave than I would disagree. Who is your friend?”

“Ah. This is Aloth Corfiser, an old friend from my Dyrwoodan days.”

“You went to the Dyrwood?”

“Briefly. Aloth, Giacolo, my friend. He was kind to me at a time when few people were.”

“Then I am pleased to meet you.” Aloth nodded a little deeper than usual. “Are we finished here?”

Giacolo hefted a small canvas bag. “I have everything a non-researcher needs.”

“We should check in with the Captains,” said Pallegina.

“I was afraid you would say that,” muttered Aloth.

“Vailond sent us as a show of strength. You and I keep our word and cannot be bought. We are the polar opposite of these individuals. Let us use that.”

“You are very good at what you do, Pallegina.”

“It was you who opened the door.” She smiled. “Shall we?”

*

The three walked up toward the grand fortress. Pallegina and Giacolo exchanged words in Vailian. Aloth could catch the gist of it maybe every three sentences.

Pallegina startled him. “Aloth. Are you troubled?”

“No more than usual.”

“You stare at nothing. You have stumbled twice.”

He waved a dismissive hand, but he said it. “She’s out there with _that_ godlike.”

“Innocently.”

“Oh?”

“I have watched her fall in love.”

“So have I, Pallegina.”

“And how disinterested were you? Tekēhu is not the object of her attentions.”

“You realize she can dally with more than one man at once.”

“Again, how disinterested? I do not think she sees her actual affair as a dalliance.”

“But he does.”

Pallegina did not answer that. It was a grim win.

The door to the fortress was open. More unsettling, an ill-favored slouch of a man recognized him and disappeared inside. He came back out, talking through a plug of Berath’s bell. “The Cap’n will speak with you now.”

The court of the Princípi centered on a circle of chairs. Aloth noted with satisfaction that Benweth had not been replaced. Aeldys, too, was missing. A fortuitous accident. Aeldys was spikier, and while Vailond might admire that, she would be better off with someone slightly more bound by courtesy.

“Captain Furrante,” said Aloth. “I bring you greetings from the captain of the _Defiant_.”

The man ran a fingertip alone the brim of his tricorn hat. “Very intriguing.”

Pallegina stepped forward. “You don’t have any more excess crew, do you?”

Furrante laughed loudly. “Did you already break the last one?”

“He is well,” said Aloth. And, assuming Furrante would appreciate it, “We even feed him.”

Furrante clapped. “Let it never be said that Captain Vailond Dugauer is not a gentleman. Come, what brings her most fearsome enforcers to the Princípi’s doorstep?”

Enforcers? Pallegina, yes, surely, but Aloth just made proximate threats uncomfortable. And sometimes on fire. Still, he had to press on before Pallegina had mustered another round. He thought of hostile villages, cities that did not accept him or his errand, camps turning deadly in an instant because he had said the wrong word. Careful.

“You have heard of the mission to Ukaizo,” said Aloth. Imminent need might help.

Furrante leaned forward in his seat, resting a forearm on his knee. “Mayhap I have.”

“She requires more than the _Defiant_ for the assault. We believe we could be of mutual aid in getting there.”

“Does Aeldys know this?”

“Only that we must choose a faction, and quickly. She has not made a compelling argument.”

“So you come to me. I am impressed, and flattered, and deeply intrigued. As it happens, I have considered the probable costs of sailing to Ukaizo.”

“How can we make them acceptable?”

“Perhaps you’ve heard tell of the Floating Hangman.”

Pallegina scoffed. “And the Buskewigger who hides under children’s beds at night. What of it?”

“It’s no children’s tale. The seas of the Deadfire are haunted by this cursed ship and its dead crew. There be precious few clues as to what brought her to be and why she continues on the waves. But we have one lead. The captain, Lucia Rivan. She will come to whomever speaks her oath over the sword of the unliving Yseyr the Berathian.”

Pallegina’s hand tightened around her sword’s pommel. Aloth coughed quietly. It was claptrap, but it was claptrap they had to be polite about. She inclined her head a degree and lessened her grip.

“The sepulcher lies under Neketaka itself,” droned Furrante. “I hear tell no one goes in or comes out from among those tombs. Yet there is Yseyr, and there is the blade he guards.”

“Why us?” said Pallegina, evidently glad to be done with the briefing. “Why not some of your several thousand pirate friends? Is it that dangerous?”

“Good lady, you misunderstand. I do not want a ship. I want an alliance. The ship is merely the instrument.”

“We will bring your words to Captain Vailond,” said Aloth. “She has always considered you an ally.”

“Mutual,” purred Furrante. “Send her my respectful regards.” As if he had any idea what ‘respectful’ was. Pirates, for all their flowery language, were blackguards and rogues to a man. Why Vailond couldn’t see that he would never—

“Walk,” whispered Pallegina, touching his elbow. Together they walked out to the sunlight.

*

“How’s the ship doing?” said Xoti.

Serafen looked up from his ale and grinned, cocky and bright. “She be coming along. With a few ‘gifts’ from the major powers we’ll have her in tip-top shape.”

“You think Vail will ever try to get a bigger ship?”

“Why would she? She has her chosen company, namely you and me and the like. She doesn’t strike me as the type to expand a circle if she already has one that works.”

Xoti sat. “Will it be enough to reach Eothas again?”

“Where be your legendary faith, lass? If Vail thinks she has enough, she has enough. Won’t you be happy to meet your god again?”

“I still don’t know what to do with the souls I’ve gathered for him.”

“Vail will sort that out. Mind you me, now that we know our next steps she’ll have plenty of brains left over to help with your nightmares.” He narrowed his eyes. “There were nightmares, weren’t there.”

“They’re getting worse,” Xoti said in a small voice.

“She told me once about being a Watcher before she learned to control it. Somebody peeled back her eyelid and there she was watching all of history. She sorted it out. So can you.” That was about the limit of his theology.

Xoti smiled winsomely. “You really trust her, don’t you?”

Serafen chuckled, scratching one ear. “I know better than to mistake her for a swabbie, and that’s a fact.”

“Do you think she can really get us to Ukaizo? I mean, lost Ukaizo. Will there be more gods there?”

“She’ll dress them down, too.” No matter what trouble that brought down. And if he had to go out? Doing it shooting a god in the jewels didn’t sound so bad. Oh, but the choir girl didn’t want to hear that.

“Thirsty?” he said, and pushed it all away. He could talk to her a while. If that got too annoying, there was a perfectly good ship coming up where he could inspect it.

*

Later, alone, Serafen thought.

It would be nice if Vailond would leave word that he could keep the _Defiant_. Sure, he was her first mate, but the bumpkin or the prefect might count themselves close enough to her to make a claim. Then again, they might return to a larger landmass, and then, well, Serafen had his own ship.

The thought was lacking in zest.

He didn’t want ageless fidelity, and gods knew he wasn’t much for goodbyes either, but…he listened for her step in the common room, and looked for her around discreet corners when slipping through less frequented areas. He knew Xoti was expecting to see Vailond again, and maybe the lass was right. It would be nice, to burn that candle just a little more. But women had left him before. This was nothing.

Days passed. The _Defiant_ melted in drydock and was rebuilt stronger than before. He thought about where he would go first. Maybe he could find more of the _Sorcerer_ ’s old crew. Wouldn’t that be fine?

*

It was when the _Defiant_ slid back into the water that Serafen felt her, like a whisper behind his head, the symphony of an awakened soul. He turned around and there Vailond was, clutching her bag over her shoulder, smiling.

Mindful, he stayed still until she reached him. “How are you?” she said, seemingly unoffended.

“You came back,” he said.

“Of course I did.” Simple, grounded. Sweet.

“I don’t generally enjoy being wrong,” he said, grinning without opening. “This once, I’ll let it by.”

She smiled and tapped his shoulder. Two taps, pause, tap, pause, tap. That was what he used from then on, when coming up from the trap door. She let him in. Warily, noncommittally, away from their moments of tenderness…but she always let him in.


	16. Lay It Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short piece between proper updates: what is Xoti doing with that lamp all this time? And will it stop bothering her? Vailond and Pallegina find out.

Woedica’s burnt book pulsed warmth in Vailond’s pack. If it kept that up much longer it would set fire to the inn, and Vailond was almost willing to let that happen. Damned gods.

She was about to put on her boots when she heard it: a groan and a pained gasp. “Xoti! Xoti!” The Wild Mare was full and Vailond was sharing a room with the priestess. The priestess who was moaning and thrashing fit to be tied. Vailond sprang to Xoti’s bed and shook her shoulder. “Don’t you start dreaming, this is never fun.”

“Vail!” It was a sepulchral moan, but by the time she hit the “l” she seemed to be alert. “The blood…you’re not…?”

“Barely any blood at all,” said Vailond, and immediately regretted the weak joke. “Come on. Sit up. You’re okay. Nobody here but us.”

Xoti reached for her lamp. It was not on the floor. It was on her pillow. “It gets heavier all the time,” she said.

“So put it down,” said Vailond. “No, seriously. Put it down.”

“I can’t! I must serve my god!”

“And driving yourself crazy for want of sleep doesn’t serve anyone.” She had to admit the obviousness of that. “Let me have it. Relax.”

Xoti stared with feral eyes. “What would you do if I took away your crossbow?”

“I’d buy another one.” Vailond darted close, gripped Xoti’s holding hand, squeezed, and wrenched the lamp free with her other hand. She bounced backward to hold the lamp high. High enough to smash.

“NO!” Xoti lurched to seize Vailond’s hand before it could let the lamp fall. “You can’t!”

“No tool is worth your life!”

“I’m still kicking!” Xoti pulled the lamp back and cradled it to her chest. “I’m still kicking.”

“We have to do something about those souls it’s carrying.”

“Am I interrupting?”

It was Pallegina in the doorway. Self-conscious, Vailond stood up straight and prepared to take it on the chin. “We were just trying to unload the souls Xoti harvested,” said Vailond. “Before they kill her.”

“Adra,” said Pallegina.

“What?” said Vailond and Xoti.

“Any animancer would tell you to release unwanted souls to luminous adra. That will channel them to the Beyond. Assuming this is where you want them to go?”

“As long as they pass through Gaun’s domain,” said Xoti. “And really, the lamp is half of that anyway. You’re right. Could we go, Vail?”

“There’s a pillar near the Sacred Stair, isn’t there,” Vailond said glumly. She hadn’t been to visit it. It was crawling with animancers. Most of what she wanted from animancers was to be left alone. They were too interested in her Watcher sight, and tended to paint weird afterimages on it. No. She did not want to refer to the animancers.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “Why don’t we do that now?”

The morning was just starting to uncrust its cloud-edged lids as Vailond, Xoti, and Pallegina hurried through Queen’s Berth and up the steep hill, across the Gullet where Xoti’s lamps cast streaks and shadows from the bridge to the fugitive murk below, and up to the tan flagstones of the Sacred Square.

The adra wasn’t visible from the street; a building had grown up around it, a weird tribute to its significance. The door was locked. Then again, Vailond hadn’t met too many doors that were impossible to work around. She touched the ground and thought of green, of growing things, of summer and the Lord of the Hunt. Thick black roots swelled from the base of the building. They shot out a stem, tendrils, a line up the side of the building, all the way up to the roof’s edge. Vailond climbed without trouble. Xoti followed, her lamp handle secure between her teeth.

“I will guard,” grumbled Pallegina below.

The adra pillar’s tip formed the center of the roof, lit slightly from within. Vailond reached out. It was warm. If Eothas had come for this one, would the city have survived?

Had he taken that into account when he chose not to use it? Maybe the god cared a tiny bit in a way that normal people could understand. Maybe.

“It could just…take it,” whispered Xoti. She was standing back, staring. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without these.”

“Sleep well,” suggested Vailond. Wasn’t that worth any price? Two months of living the souls of everyone she met at night would have had Vailond doing murder to make it stop. She basically had, even if the guy had it coming.

Vailond took Xoti’s free hand and drew her closer. If this was to be done, it wasn’t to be done alone. She nodded encouragement.

Xoti turned her face to the pillar and closed her eyes.

Her lamp flared white, white like burning down to bones. She gasped and whimpered. Slowly, dreading what was to come but feeling like she shouldn’t just shut her inner eye, Vailond opened herself to the vision of souls.

They roiled in the lamp. They burst. They expanded. They raced in circles. The thundering mass edged toward the adra pillar.

Xoti wobbled on her feet. Vailond squeezed her hand. The souls touched the green pillar and the pillar flared in both first and second sight. The moment of contact was a shudder that would have sent both women reeling if their legs weren’t fast in place. The souls touched and began to stream like a dammed lake pierced to a channel. Vailond wanted to pull away. She wanted to close her eyes. She wanted to not be here, and she wanted this to be over.

And she wanted Xoti to come back with her.

Xoti gave a low ongoing moan. The lamp flickered and dimmed to a low glow. Together they stumbled.

“Are you okay?” said Vailond. The adra pillar had channeled away the river of souls. It no longer hurt to Watch.

“I feel all empty,” said Xoti. “But the pain is gone.”

“You want to go back and rest?”

“Why would I?” She pulled her head up high and smiled at the orange-lined eastern prospect. “There’s the dawn.”


	17. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond's crew faces a storm on the _Defiant_. People realize something, but just being alive is reason enough for a night of grog and companionship.

Vailond shoved the hot book unopened to the bottom of her belongings. The _Defiant_ put out to sea once more. The destination was the northern island of Ori O Koīki. They had barely cleared the harbor when Vailond felt her consciousness grabbed and dragged down, down into the ocean, into depths lit only by will and nightmare, into the grotto where sat the goddess Ondra.

“What?” said Vailond.

The towering fish-creature looked at her with those blank luminescent eyes. “You waste my son’s time. Flatulent fish do not meet his potential.”

“And his wishes? What about those?”

“He can be more!”

“So go tell him how to do that!” Vailond bit back further commentary. This was a goddess. A weird, petty, annoying goddess, but a goddess. “He will sail with me to Ukaizo. Is that not a good enough test for you?”

“If you are determined to waste his time,” she said, “I can certainly be involved.” She pushed one giant, scaly hand, and Vailond reeled back to herself.

Whatever that meant.

They were two days out from Neketaka, going around its island the long way to avoid raiders. The _Defiant_ was faster than ever, but no better armed. Vailond wondered whether the pirates would be willing to stop Eothas from destroying the Wheel of reincarnation. But no, all the gods had decided that was Vailond’s job. She found herself watching the water, trying not to think. Her interludes with Serafen were blessed.

And sometimes he spoke with her outside her cabin. It was good.

“Should we pick it up?” said Vailond.

The day was fine, the wind favorable, and the _Defiant_ skated across the shining blue sea. Away from the port the faint aroma of rot was gone, leaving only salt and tar with low notes of ship’s materials mixed in. The sun broke on the water like a spill of jewels, and the cool wind flattened Vailond’s hair against her ear on one side and sent it riffing sideways on the other. She really needed to get it cut.

Serafen beside her eyed the spot he had pointed out to her. “Doesn’t look like much from here.”

“Still, any jetsam might be useful.” She felt a little proud of the word.

“Might not be,” he said. “Off a wreck, it be called flotsam. Tossed over to avoid sinking, it be jetsam.”

She considered this information. “But it’s the same stuff.”

“Right, but one’s flotsy and the other’s more jetty. ‘Sides, it be legal to salvage flotsam.”

“But it’s the exact same objects. That box there? Still a box no matter how it got tossed.”

“I don’t make the rules, Captain.”

She made a face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Confusing you be a hobby, not a profession,” he said, and laughed. His nose twitched. The smile went out like a candle.

“Serafen?”

“Wind’s changing,” he said, looking over her shoulder. “Hey! Reef the sails! Reef the sails now!”

“What are you—” she shut her mouth while he leaned and looked. He had the silent assurance of a person who knew her well, and indeed all he had to do was lean, and look, to direct her to see what was off the port bow.

A shadow, moving too quickly to be a ship. And fanning out too broadly.

The deck crawled with sailors working to pull the sails half up. The result would be enough to catch a storm’s wind forward but not so much that a powerful gust could rip the sail from the mast or, worse, the mast from the hull.

“Glass,” he said sharply, darting to the helm. Vailond followed; she had no expertise but she had hands and eyes, and those would do some good. The helmsman handed him the case and Serafen swore quietly as he opened the case with deft fingers and drew out the oversized spyglass. “To starboard, and be quick about it.” He swung it up. “Maia! The sea anchor!” Never content to bark orders for others, he ran to the stern, shoved the case into Vailond’s hands, and started undoing a coil of rope and canvas that no one had stirred since Vailond had been on the ship.

Irrena was running up from the mess, a neglected chicken leg in her hand. “Captain?”

“Storm coming fast,” said Vailond. “Serafen has the deck. Get our loose goods belowdecks until he orders something else.” Her knowledge still had so many holes.

She ran up to where Serafen and four others were uncoiling a big canvas circle. “Point me,” she said. She had to make it loud over the rising wind.

“Get belowdecks,” he said.

“What? No!”

“We need the stores secured. There be rope enough belowdecks. Go.”

“Serafen, I’m not leaving you up—!”

He raised a finger nearly to the level of her nose. “We’re about to have a problem, Cap’n, and I can’t be fighting you. I be qualified to give direction, and you be qualified to do anything that takes a strong arm and a world of nerve. And mind you me, staying below the waves takes nerve. Now go.”

“Be careful.”

“I be enjoying life too much to let it go easily,” he chuckled, and pushed her hand away as he turned. “Now! Spread her on the stern!”

Something stung Vailond’s forehead. Rain. The cloud dragging on the ocean was closer than any real thing could have gotten so fast. She looked at Serafen. He ignored her. She ran for the hatch.

*

Serafen had the crew batten down every hatch but the one that led to where Vailond had gone; in rapid order the crew secured the tarpaulins with nailed wooden strips. The sea anchor was ready to go down as soon as the winds overtook them, which was less than half a minute later. The rain drove ahead as if trying to nail its own tarpaulin down.

Serafen liked feeling alive. He liked experiences, and he liked challenges. And he hated storms with every fiber of his being. There was no faster way for a perfectly good ship and crew to die pointlessly. He circled the deck, watching, ordering. The sails were well reefed before the first killing gust came through. It beat the ship forward but didn’t fill the sail so badly the mast sustained damage. Good.

Edér was doing something with ropes in front of the slick helm. Serafen approached to find Aloth lashed to the front of the pedestal.

“What?” said Serafen.

“I can help,” said Aloth. “If nothing else I can provide light.”

Serafen rolled his eyes. “Tie him tight,” he advised the big oaf.

“Where’s Vail?” said the oaf.

“Belowdecks. I’m mate here.”

The ship pitched and rolled. The waves seemed to get higher with every onslaught. The sea anchor slowed and stabilized things, a little, and the helmsman kept them pointed straight with the wind and perpendicularly to the waves. The rain hammered the boards. Serafen sent some of the crew belowdecks; it was a senseless risk to keep them out on deck where the waves were starting to heave over the gunwales.

Aloth shouted weirdly. “Oi, if 'tisn't a ride too wild for our wee wizard! Lookit the winds!”

Edér yelled. “Oh, no no no. We need Aloth, Iselmyr. We need him to keep from sinking.”

And Serafen really, really didn’t have time to unpack that.

Half a minute later, Aloth, true to his word, lit the deck in brilliant orange, allowing Serafen to take in every damned detail of the roiling mess. Once or twice an invisible force cut across and blunted the impact of a wave. Serafen tossed him a salute that he almost certainly didn’t see, and went about helping the crew.

*

The storm did not let up that night. Vailond slept in a spare bunk belowdecks and got a cold ration from the mess in the morning. Then she went out on the rain-battered deck. Eld Engrim was coordinating the rigging, the untangling of the sea anchor’s pinning, the passage of crew. For once he did not teach her how to lead these things himself. She just observed. He sent her to cut Aloth down so he could get some rest. The night and the storm pounced onto the deck as Aloth released his orange spell. Vailond took his wrist and he shook free to wrap an arm around her waist. She looped an arm over his shoulder and they supported one another across the streaming deck to the relative safety below.

He crawled up into his bunk with a grip that fell limp a fraction of a second later. “Wake me in an hour,” he croaked.

She tugged the blanket free of the foot of the bunk and spread it over him. She laid a hand on his cold cheek and hesitated, captured by a moment’s peace. She whispered back. “No.”

*

The storm did not let up in the morning. Waves menaced their stern, broke at angles over their sides, and rose over the bow until the weight of the ship could cut through the next swell. Serafen felt every strike through his boots, through the prickling of his scalp under the rain. He ran from station to station, summoning mental images of light and victory into the exhausted crew. He lost track of how many times he had made the circuit.

*

The storm did not let up that night. Hours meant nothing, except that when Serafen couldn’t hold his balance on the slick deck someone replaced him. He stumbled to the mess and got a cold ration of meat and ale, crammed both gracelessly in his mouth, then reeled belowdecks to a bunk.

Vailond was out when he came back. She was doing something with the ropes of the sea anchor next to Edér. That thing dragging behind them was the only thing keeping them from skidding uncontrollably ahead of the roaring wind.

Vailond turned to him. Even exhausted, gray-faced, with plastered hair and a slump to her shoulders, her sweet mouth smiled. “Want to help me turn this?”

He held onto a railing near the middle of the deck and tried to say something. He stopped when the wave rose above them.

And crashed onto.

Serafen didn’t think. He gripped the railing and reached for Vailond where she slipped off her feet and swept toward the gunwale. He gripped her hard. The wave was still pushing water, and the wind came about to hammer them both. He held her hand with a grip of death. If she slipped now, they would never find her in the sea. Even seeking her mind…in a storm like this, that wasn’t enough.

He held her hand, but their grip was slipping.

Serafen saw the damp gold of Edér’s hair nearby. The human was struggling with a rope. Not important. Serafen reached out in total desperation. He didn’t have time to dig through the man’s memories to find the right feeling—he thought Vail, and danger, and, whatever that summoned inside the man’s head, the human turned and saw the orlan and the elf locked for one more slippery moment.

“Hey!” The movement was too fast to be believed. Edér hurled himself through the trailing end of the wave and seized Vailond’s arm just as Serafen’s hand squeezed over her absence.

He had her. He had her. Vailond hugged him hard, then turned to hug Serafen, body to soaked body, spinning him halfway around. Over his shoulder she craned way up. “That hurts way less than when Tyrhos does it,” she yelled over the wind.

“Aw,” said Edér over Serafen’s head. “The secret is I don’t use my teeth.”

“Genius.”

“I’ve gotta get back to this. You go count your bruises for a bit, all right?”

Vailond nuzzled Serafen’s ear, a firm cold contact in the whipping cold night. Quietly now she worked the tip of her nose over his temple and to his own nose. For a second she held still, holding him, face to face.

“Lass,” he murmured. “Are you tired?”

Orange light flared from amidships. Aloth was back, easing the sailors’ tasks. For a second everything was lit in full, trembling, Vailond’s embrace among them. Everyone on deck must have seen.

“Come on,” she said, and slid her hand to Serafen’s. “No time left.”

*

Vailond groaned. The bunk’s rough mattress was leaving hard red lines all over her face and body. She rolled and looked up.

“We’re out,” Serafen said softly, sitting at the bunk’s edge. He ran a fingertip up her damp, salt-stiff tunic from hip past breast to shoulder. He smiled, but the dark under his eyes seemed to smear down into his salt-flecked beard.

She brushed down her tunic and stumbled out and upward. The sky above was a washed-out blue that stung tears to her dark-befuddled eyes. The ship was in hideous disarray. Half the crew was at the stern pulling in the monstrous sea anchor. Another few were letting the sails down.

“Land,” said Eld Engrim, lowering the spyglass. “We need to put in, Captain.”

“Agreed,” said Vailond. “Make it happen.”

*

Edér rowed beside Vailond in the boat. He jerked his chin toward the other. “How long?” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

“I don’t know. A little while.”

“Are you so ashamed you have to hide it? And he’d let you? Is that any kind of relationship?”

“I wanted the intrigue,” she said. It hurt that he was angry. But not a fatal pain. “He makes me happy.”

Edér looked out to sea. He blew out a breath and grinned crookedly. “You always did know just what you want,” he said, and changed the subject.

The island was mostly sand under a glaring sun. “How far from home are we?” said Tekēhu, staring around. The gnarled broad-leaf trees did not answer.

Irrena clapped. “Locals, you know what we can find here. If we can eat, float, or build with it, it comes with us. Dyrwoodans and company…by your leave, Captain.”

Vailond stayed by the boats. “Serafen? You think we should take the sails up to dry here?”

He was dragging a small ivory comb through his draggled blue fur, wincing. He looked up from his arm. “They go just as well on the spars.”

“The sea anchor, then. It’s nothing but canvas and ropes, we could make a tent. Rest in the shade.”

His eyebrow spiked. “Not a bad idea. I’ll see to it.”

“I believe I can raise fresh water here,” said Tekēhu. “Possibly. In theory. I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

“Advisor to princes?” Vailond said sweetly. “Can I help?”

“Do you have a shovel?”

“We do on board.”

“Bring a keg, too.”

She rowed back with Serafen. He seemed to enjoy every stretch into the sunlight. “Another night’s sleep and I’ll feel halfway kith again,” he said.

The storm still whistled in her memory, raged against her wearied muscles. Nothing felt connected for her yet. “I think you were wonderful,” she said. It helped.

“Don’t set me blushing, lass, it leaves nothing for the sunburn to do.” He grinned. “Though I be handy enough in a scrape, for all that.”

They got their shovels and helped load the vast canvas anchor onto the boat to get it back to shore. Some of the sailors who had gotten nearby supplies from the sparse stands of trees or the tidal pools at their roots helped to raise the thing into a broad tent, where most flopped down to rest.

Vailond stood beside Tekēhu as he dug. “What do we do with this?” she said.

“Bring the barrel close.” The hole had a little puddle of mud at the bottom where the ocean had soaked up and through, partly by the sand. “All right. Prepare to be amazed, amused, or amucked.”

“Aloth, is ‘amucked’ a word?” yelled Vailond.

Tekēhu flexed his fingers and raised a hand. The water rose from the muddy salt bottom to the barrel.

“Oh,” said Vailond. “Did that help?”

“Taste it and see.” He smiled and lowered his voice. “No, really, do, I cannot guarantee that worked.”

Vailond scooped up some cold, sparkling water. She tasted. It was fresh. “Mm.” She tasted more. It made the sun and salt less miserable. “Keep doing that,” she said, splashing the last of it onto her face.

“No,” said Aloth beside her.

“What?” said Vailond and Tekēhu.

“’Amucked’ is not a word.”

Tekēhu swept up cupped hands. “Ekera. Taste this and forgive me my linguistic enthusiasm.”

Aloth reached out gingerly to have the water poured into his hands. He dipped his mouth, very slightly. “Ah,” he said. “It’s very nice.”

“Such praise, I’m blushing to my fins,” Tekēhu said slyly. “Then again, I got Aloth’s approval.”

“The second rarest substance in the world,” said Vailond.

Aloth looked intrigued. “Oh? What’s the rarest?”

She could admit to old in-jokes for him. “My parents never told me.”

*

The sun declined in the west and the shadow of the sea anchor stretched and cooled. By ones and twos the crew returned, carrying sacks of fruit, hauling wooden rods and rolling fat wooden cylinders, all to help rebuild the ship and restore her supplies. Maia stepped up, giving Serafen some wary looks but expertly apportioning what went where with Serafen’s slyly respectful agreement.

Pallegina left her restless circuit of the beach and approached Vailond. “We survived,” she said. “What do we do differently next time, Captain?”

Vailond looked around. “Don’t get caught!” It was good for a cheer. Pallegina gave her a long-suffering look, then smiled. “I will have to look out for all of you,” she said, clearly meaning that both literally and not.

The ended up in a circle: Edér, Aloth, Xoti, Pallegina. Vailond relaxed until Serafen reappeared from whatever he’d been saving. They looked at one another.

And, for some reason…

It wasn’t like they were the only two people there. She was aware of the circle. She was aware that everyone had noticed this sooner or later. She was aware that if he panicked now she would lose him, and she wasn’t ready for that.

So she sat slightly aside, and patted the sand beside her. He looked straight at her as he crossed the circle and sat beside her, one knee up, one fallen sideways near her. She smiled shyly. He grinned wolfishly.

After that they acted like before, but everyone knew this time.

Xoti, adorably clueless, smiled. “I think you 're sweet together. And I really don't want to get on your bad side. The joint reaction time...”

“Two quickest draws in the Deadfire,” Maia drawled from the circle’s edge. “No wonder nobody stands up to us.” She hefted a keg. “Seeing as the whole command staff is here, I thought we might break out the grog. Strict rations.”

“Oh, drink ‘til you’re done,” said Vailond. “We’re alive tonight.”

Pallegina eyed Xoti. “Are you disappointed to have no one to harvest in all that?”

“No,” Xoti said comfortably. “We have time.” A few looks were exchanged. Unsettling, cheerful, she went on. “The nightmares stopped after you took us to the pillar. It was a good idea.”

Pallegina nodded. “Animancers. They have their uses.”

“And their treasons,” said Aloth.

“Ac,” said Pallegina. “You don't have to break cults all the time. No?” She cast Maia a teasing look.

It didn’t take Aloth long to raise his eyebrows in exaggerated acknowledgment. “Once it's a nation-state it's not really a cult anymore.”

Edér snorted. “Tell that to Readceras.”

Tekēhu walked in with another keg. “Come, who's for cold water?”

“Me,” said Vailond at once. She wanted her head clear; she wanted to revisit this place and this feeling in memory for a long time. “Grog?”

“I don’t wish to rest on our collective laurels,” he said seriously.

“You don’t have to make up for _her_. Have you stopped to rest? Have you eaten?”

“Fish,” he said. “My mother’s fish. I will eat if there’s nothing else, but…”

“There's boar,” volunteered Xoti.

Tekēhu’s head-worms whipped around to point at her around his surprised face. “You are a gem among women.” He looked around. “One of several, I say.”

“So a very common gem,” said Pallegina.

“Our crew is anything but common,” he said in return.

She smiled. “Not a bad recovery.”

“7/10 at least,” proposed Xoti.

Pallegina inclined her head. “Six. He didn't bring flowers.”

“Oh?” Vailond leaned forward, because the look on Tekēhu’s face said that he was about to outdo himself. He raised one palm up in front of his mouth and raised a fist-sized bubble of water from the keg’s tap. The bubble divided into four and swirled into tiny, flashing lotus flowers, ever in watery motion. He made the rounds, delivering one into Vailond’s hands, one to Xoti’s, one to Pallegina’s, and one to a skeptical but not-refusing Maia.

Xoti examined hers. “Come on, Pallegina. Is that worth a ten?”

“Ten,” said Maia.

“Ten,” said Vailond.

Pallegina’s second eyelids closed and opened. “Seven,” she conceded.

“Do we get better flowers from you?” Serafen said dryly.

“Not until we reach calmer waters. I believe you have seen the Vailian gardens.”

“Can I just say?” said Edér. “Vail, I shouldn’t have snapped earlier. Out there, on deck? Serafen made the difference.” He looked around the circle. “We almost lost Vail. I'm up at the stern disagreeing with a lot of ropes when this memory slams me—”

“Which one?” said Xoti.

“Oh, The second Vail opened fire on Thaos. Semi-immortal cult master with several hundred years’ arcane training. And she just…you know. I was sure he'd crush her without blinking.”

“Faith,” chided Vailond.

“So this memory. I never felt anything like it. Comes out of nowhere and vanishes. I look around and there's Serafen barely holding Vail to the deck under a wave. Should've known it was a cipher dredging that up. So I run for her—”

“—I slip—”

“—I grab her—”

“—I practically drag him overboard with me—”

“I got you.” His eyes were clear and bright and blue and right. “I got you.” He cut a look to Serafen. “You did your job, and I'm grateful.”

Something happened then, in the way Pallegina looked around the circle. “Quite. Vailond, you never panicked. Would that I’d always had commanders like that.” She raised her glistening flower in something like a toast. “And the rest of us followed. You should have seen Aloth on deck. Light, splitting waves, freezing one wave to blunt the next.”

“I saw some of it,” said Vailond. “You were great.”

Aloth was coloring. “I rendered you no such dramatic service.”

“You saved the ship. Repeatedly. That counts.”

Maia nodded. “Ishi appreciated it what you did with the wind when he lost his grip.”

Aloth cleared his throat. “He seems none the worse for wear.”

“Thanks.”

“I'm just happy to help.”

They stayed up for another hour, talking about the storm, about Neketaka, about embarrassing stories Edér had had the nerve to remember from their Dyrwoodan days. She talked about Tyrhos and heard about fledgling Ishi. It was a damned good night, and when Serafen rose to go to sleep he touched her shoulder like they’d been doing this all their lives.

She followed him to a spot that would fit them both with space to spread. “Well,” he said. “The mystery’s out. Not much else to me, is there?”

She laced her fingers with his. “You’re still exciting.”

“Yeah?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised.

She squeezed. “Yeah.”

It was time for a night’s sleep in peace, still separated a few feet, but close if they both reached out, even if they didn’t have to. Eyes closed, body relaxed, Serafen breathed like a bellows the entire time.


	18. Tombs and Chains, Sand and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond explores the desert island when the storm ends. For a price, navigation is restored, and Vailond is directed to right a great wrong on Crookspur Island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endgame is in sight. Expect updates Tuesdays and Saturdays.

At dawn the camp stirred and distributed sweet cool fruit and toasted grain. The career sailors were set on fixing things around the ship, all but Serafen, who stayed at Vailond’s side. She thought now and then of falling away from him, as she had in the storm. But he was there, at the comfortable and secretly meaningful distance, and he joked at her.

Pallegina returned from a pre-dawn walk to report on a building out in the haze. Vailond took a party across the pathless pale desert to find it. It was huge. Yellow stone, something of a pyramid, with a gaping black entryway. Vailond lit a torch. Xoti raised her lamp. They walked in slowly.

Vailond hesitated under the squared stone arch. Outside, desolate yellow dunes of sand already hot under the unfriendly sun. Inside, enclosure, shadow, design. It was a strange place. The walls were carved in mind-boggling detail, figures and animals and repetitive patterns. The air was cold and still, so still it felt like it resisted their walking.

“Huana runes,” Tekēhu said quietly. “It is a tomb. I know who built this.”

“How long ago?” said Vailond. It smelled only of dust.

“A thousand years? Maybe more.”

“Hold,” said Xoti. She darted to one wall and pointed to a trigger mechanism. “Look familiar?”

“No?” said Vailond.

“I’ve seen some finger traps almost as complicated as this,” she said innocently, and set to work, laying her lamp under her chin while her hands moved until a tripwire fell loose. “There. Watch your step from here on.”

The path branched. “Right,” said Vailond, arbitrarily. That was how they continued in.

They finally reached a four-way intersection. They hadn’t seen a trap in two turns. Pallegina and Xoti made a slow circuit, examining the ancient stone tiles in every direction. They looked at one another. “No traps,” they agreed.

“There’s nothing else here,” said Vailond. “Can’t you feel it? Nobody’s been here in years. Centuries.” The silence was starting to get on her nerves. “Spread out. Serafen, Tekēhu, Xoti, keep an eye out for traps. Edér, go with Pallegina and Maia. Aloth, with me.” She wasn’t sure why she said it that way. It just came out. Well, Aloth was a useful man to have around. She lit a torch and walked beside him.

The echoes of other conversations followed them for a few paces then gave up. They turned around a corner. More tiles, more carvings. Vailond remembered all the traps Xoti had spotted and looked for more, but there were none.

She dared a look at Aloth. “I wanted to thank you for your work during the storm.”

He gave her a startled look. “I didn’t do very much.”

“For a while I thought there must be no lights left in the whole world. But there was you.” She looked away, blushing. “Anyway.”

“ _Serafen_ kept us going beyond ordinary endurance.” He looked at the walls ahead.

“Yeah, well. He’s a good sailor. I….” She needed them both. Would he accept that? She pointed ahead. “Look, a door.”

Aloth, who had been staring straight at it, shook himself. “Yes. Shall we?”

It ground to one side at their touch. The room beyond felt huge.

“Aloth?” she said. Her torch was not enough.

He raised one hand and flooded the room in pale orange light. The place was broad and square and lined with elaborate carvings of figures and geometric patterns in the yellow stone. There was a bier, or maybe an altar, lying on a pedestal in the middle. On the very top lay a jeweled skull and an ancient, rune-hafted hammer.

“Pretty,” said Vailond.

“I would just as soon leave the skull,” said Aloth. He wasn’t looking at her then either.

“It could pay a lot of people’s keep,” said Vailond. “You don’t think it’s wrong, trying to take it?”

“I—that is—with proper deliberation….” He sighed. “We already know no one is left to claim it. Do what you’re going to do.”

“No, I want your opinion. Honestly.”

“I don’t enjoy raiding graves,” he said. “At the same time, any tool we can use to reach Eothas…we are past the point of niceties.”

“We’re helping the Huana, aren’t we? Now this helps us. Maybe this is just closing the circle.”

He nodded. “Very well. I support you.”

She had to smile. “That’s the only way anything ever gets done.” The orange light gave his pale face a little flush as he smiled.

She stalked toward the pedestal, watching her step. Her prize gleamed in the edge of her vision. She got close and looked to Aloth, who was standing halfway to the door.

She took the hammer. Lightly; every point of contact with her flesh tingled. But it was hers.

The floor rumbled. Vailond reeled to one knee and Aloth shouted wordlessly, running for her.

The stone door closed. From mouths and eyes in the carvings all around the room, sand began to pour.

Aloth and Vailond together raced for the door and pushed. And shoved sideways and tried to tear down. It didn’t move.

The sand hissed as it fell from each hole, forming a nest of snakes to their ears. It made little heaps on the ground, too many to easily count, made worse because they started joining as they grew.

“Push with me,” said Aloth. He placed his arms around her and leaned in, pressing with all his might. Distracted, Vailond arched against him, then realized that wasn’t the point. She pushed with him. No good.

Through fifty holes, the sand poured.

“Hold on,” said Vailond. She knelt and brought up her awareness of the life around her. There was little to go on. She tried to summon the living vine that could break through these walls through the very holes that were trying to drown them.

Life stirred at the furthest limits of her senses. But it did not come to her.

“Be careful,” said Aloth. “Stand clear of the door.” Vailond moved. Aloth raised a hand and a fireball flared to slam into the unyielding surface.

Through fifty holes, the sand poured.

“I don’t have any explosives,” said Vailond.

“Nor lever arms,” said Aloth.

“Damn it,” said Vailond.

“Don’t worry,” said Aloth.

“This is the perfect time for worrying,” said Vailond.

Aloth turned to the door. He raised his hands. A phalanx of icicles swept out of nowhere and slammed into the edge of the door.

Nothing.

“Step,” said Vailond. “Keep your feet on top of the sand.” Getting stuck here would be a horrible way to die.

Well…she might not have a choice.

He kept throwing things at the door. Vailond knelt on the growing layer of sand and tried again to summon a vine. She felt a tiny shoot between the stones of the floor. Shuddering with relief, pushing through a headache, she directed it to grow toward the door.

It made it about six inches, then fell below the rising sands.

Aloth was looking around. “We can’t block all these dispensers at once.”

“No,” said Vailond. “No.” Her focus was wavering. Her ability to summon and shape thorns was shaky at best, and infinitely harder in a stone room filling with sand. There was no life to draw on. She knew Aloth was no better off; the man had run through his grimoire twice at least just getting them this far.

“Vail, I can’t help you.” Aloth summoned his bronze sphere lamp to hover above and between them. “I have no other answer.”

She straightened. “I tried,” she said hoarsely.

“I know.”

And at the end of everything, he was here. Somehow she had known he would be. She stepped forward and reached for the hair at his shoulder. “Aloth, I….”

Something cold shifted between them. He leaned back. “Now, of all times. Do you _ever_ think beyond who is available?”

The venom sent her reeling. He liked her. She knew he liked her. Why was he always refusing to do something about it? “Do you really want those to be your last words?”

“No one’s going to remember what is said here,” he said bitterly. “Or done.”

His words finished the wall between herself and hope. The sand poured in. It was true, no one would ever know what had happened here. No one would have any idea.

Vailond looked at Aloth. Aloth looked at Vailond. Their mouths opened together. They charged in one twinned movement, hugged body to body, mouth to ear. “Yes,” she whispered mindlessly. He just sighed, his fingertips dragging as if to grip her entire back. They shifted, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, breathless together…and as they pressed in an explosion ripped out the wall beside them, separating them, sending the sand surging down and away into the hall, and the two of them flailing with it.

“Always wanted to do that,” said Maia. “You two all right?”

Everyone else was there, staring. “Fine,” Vailond said loudly. She just really wanted to see someone available just then.

*

Aloth stretched on his belly on the upper bunk. It was undignified but necessary. He faced a little lap desk with a narrow piece of paper and an inkwell ready to hand.

He wrote, carefully.

*

Captain,

If Maia had only intervened a minute later—!

I no longer know what to think.

You turn to me when you have no other choice. When you have one…am I useless to you? A reminder of a time in your life you would just as soon forget? Would you bring up love unbidden today, or was that letter part of a phase that has ended?

We have had little time together, all in all. Only enough for me to understand that a woman like you happens by once in a lifetime, maybe less. The window is brief, and I missed it.

Sometimes you grant me glimpses. I am not insensible to that. If I push you away, it’s because I cannot settle for less than all of you. I don’t expect you to understand that. You do not see life as I do. You are so much in the moment, so much taken with the scraps you can reach when the world will not grant you a whole. You have shown me how to live more on such scraps than some people manage with feasts – but I cannot be contented with that. Give me no half measures unless you begin with two of them.

I leave you with that ultimatum, knowing you have no reason whatsoever to fulfill it. If you will have me, no holds barred, I will face the gods with you.

I will face it all with you.

Yours in respect, fidelity, and some remote, selfish hope,

Aloth

*

Edér prodded the bottom of the bunk just under Aloth’s pillow. “You keep scratching at that grimoire you’re going to wear out the pages.”

“And then I would have nothing,” Aloth said distantly. “How foolish of me.” He waited until he was sure Edér was asleep before he crumpled the paper and shoved it beside his mattress.

*

Vailond’s cabin was subtly warmer than the rest of the ship. Suspicious, she went to the pack under the table.

Heat was coming off in waves.

Had it been going this entire time? Irritably Vailond pulled out the burned book. She opened it and accepted the yank into the narrow white platform in the swirling In-Between. One figure waited for her.

“You find Ondra’s…hijinks…more interesting?” Woedica said dryly, leaning over Vailond’s platform.

“I have no idea where we are,” said Vailond.

“An exchange,” said Woedica. “I will tell you of Ukaizo, and you are going to respect me the entire time. In return I will give you your position on your charts.”

Woedica didn’t just talk about Ukaizo and the Wheel of souls. She waxed wordy on the topic of mortals and their inability to take care of themselves. As though the guidance of a lot of squabbling bullies were any better.

Vailond respected her the entire time. She needed that location.

“I find it fascinating,” said Woedica, “that there is something that can shut you up. I should look into sea storms.”

“Is there anything else?” Vailond bit the words off.

“No. I trust when you reach the Wheel you will consider my words. Kith left to their own devices will only come to grief.”

And people relying on the gods were doing so much better. “Understood.”

“Good.” Woedica reached down. Oh, no. No touching. Vailond sprinted. She sprinted in the only direction that seemed to lead on more than a few paces—

Woedica chuckled. The little platform spun so Vailond’s sprint brought her closer. The withered fingertip touched Vailond’s head. In a shock of clarity Vailond understood the map and the bearings where they were.

“Fare well, Watcher. We will see one another again.”

*

The winds more or less cooperated as the _Defiant_ struggled from its remote island onto more familiar seaways. Ori O Koīki lay far to the north in the Deadfire, and, while everyone was happy to be back to a normal work rhythm, they were even happier to put into ports on the way.

Aloth was strange with Vailond, and Vailond with Aloth. They didn’t look, or talk, or…well, much of anything. And Aloth stopped being in the same room as Serafen. Vailond didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t like that it needed fixing, but she wasn’t sure who to blame.

Herself, maybe. But to be blunt, she didn’t know what she would have done differently. Every step led to this. If Aloth weren’t so…so good, or if Serafen weren’t so…so compelling, this wouldn’t be a problem.

In time they reached the tree-shaded docks of their destination. The island aumaua who lived here were not friendly, but they were willing to trade, and one sent Vailond and her chosen few up a lift to a thatched village.

Vailond meant only to negotiate the return of the Wahaki to the Huana ranks. These people were legendary fighters, but equally legendary stranger-haters. They did not leave their island except to fish. Honestly, it reminded Vailond of her first weeks as Lady of Caed Nua. She was bewildered by all these people who wanted things from her. She just wanted a roof over her head and maybe a friend or two, not…all this mess.

The Wahaki ranga had hard words. She also had a soul that remembered the history of this island for many hundreds of years. And that soul remembered Thaos Ix Arkannon, come to scare the Wahaki away from their island because of the will of the Wahaki’s long-departed allies.

They had burned him at the stake. Vailond could clap. They had turned their spears against all outsiders thereafter. Vailond did not clap.

“But we will sail again,” the ranga concluded. “The slavers of Crookspur have gutted our ranks. Stop them, and we will sail with you for the Huana.”

“Slavers?” said Vailond. “Sign me up.”

They were outside in the village when Vailond pulled Aloth aside. He resisted for just a second. She froze. He cocked his head, and she finished pulling him. “Listen to me. Thaos visited this village.”

The awkwardness vanished. Aloth’s eyes widened. “Impossible. When?”

“Hundreds of years. He tried to bring them Woedica’s word and they burned him at the stake.”

“A heartwarming story.”

“They’ve kicked out outsiders ever since.”

“What, just because of what Thaos did or said? That means…if such a small event…that it, it must have been barely more than a chance encounter. One wandering interloper.” He pressed his lips together and stared into her eyes, lost in something she couldn’t trace. “But it shaped their entire identity, their way of dealing with the world. Have I been causing such a wake as I dismantled the Leaden Key? Did I really improve anything?”

Now that was exactly the kind of direction he shouldn’t go in. “You can’t predict the future,” said Vailond. “That’s the point. All you can do is try to do something right in the present. We’ll deal with tomorrow’s problems tomorrow.”

“Surely we can prevent some disasters if we’re careful.”

“Fifty-fifty shot. Not worth torturing yourself over. You gave them a chance to make their own fates, isn’t that enough?”

“Vailond.” He smiled weakly. “You are so down to earth.”

“Earth always starts growing again.” She shook her head. “You’re a good person. That’s true no matter what happens.”

“You believe that?”

“I know that. As much as I’ve ever known anything in my life. More, even.”

He nodded. He smiled a little. “At least I have that.”

They scattered, maybe less than they could have.

*

They sailed south again, this time on a shorter journey: the ugly outpost of Crookspur.

Vailond was on deck looking out to sea while her hair whipped her cheekbones and tickled her ears. She heard Pallegina coming up.

“How’re you holding up?” said Vailond.

“Captain. I am well. I wanted to speak with you before we went too far with the Huana.”

Vailond turned. “Oh?”

Pallegina was all business. Just like normal. “The Vailian Trading Company has sent an expedition to the island of Poko Kohari. It would be to our mutual benefit to verify the fate of that expedition. And to investigate the island.”

“Uh-huh. Does anyone already live there?”

“I am certain the VTC can negotiate for use of the land.”

“With a little Vailond fist in a velvet glove.”

Pallegina inclined her head. “We would reward you.”

“I’ll think about it,” lied Vailond. Negotiation, her ass.

Funnily enough, Maia approached her less than an hour later. The aumaua got much, much closer before Vailond realized she was there. Ishi flapped in to settle on the gunwale next to Vailond’s elbows.

Vailond dropped her gaze toward the flash of the water beneath. “Is that a friendly raptor or are you just happy to see me?”

“Heh. I wanted to talk before we go too far.”

Vailond looked at her. “Is breaking up a slaving operation ‘too far’?”

“Before you make promises you can’t back out of.”

“Well, do you need to deliver more messages?”

“I need word of Poko Kohari. Don’t ask why I know. There’s a luminous adra deposit here. Bet the Vailians didn’t tell you that.”

“No. They didn’t.”

“There would be a reward in sabotaging the adra so they can’t use it.”

“Sabotage…adra? You do realize we use it.”

“To make bathwater sparkle? The VTC wastes it. You know we’re more stable.”

“And how quickly can that be done? We've lost too much time already.”

“Think about it, Captain. But think quickly.”

Tekēhu was lurking guiltily by Vailond’s cabin door. He straightened when he spotted her. “Ekera, your friends are restless. Must I make clever political bargains to keep up?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Very well. I ask for your conscience, my friend. And a little help with your sailors' betting pool regarding the likelihood of me summoning or turning into a kraken.”

“Did you want your kraken debut to be a surprise?”

“In my official capacity as fish I am under no obligation to devour ships.”

“Tekēhu, I have no idea why they let you go to come with me. But I’m really glad they did.”

*

Vailond brought what Maia called the command staff, crowding one boat to reach the beach of Crookspur Island. They crept out of sight of the gate approach and climbed Vailond’s vine to vault over the wall and into a sand-floored walkway.

Vailond jumped when she heard the voice. “You’re late,” grumbled an ogre carrying a log bigger than Vailond and Aloth put together. “I should leave you out, only, boss says all buyers should be welcome.”

“Well don’t make me miss it,” said Vailond. One guess what “buyers” wanted in Crookspur.

He growled. “Your weapons.”

“Check with your mistress. We’re on the List.”

“I seriously doubt you’re….” The ogre scowled at her, calculating. “Go on.”

“What was that?” Aloth said, sounding awed.

“I have absolutely no idea,” said Vailond. “Let’s get to the courtyard.”

The scene in the courtyard was everything Vailond didn’t want for Caed Nua. Well-dressed kith crowded onto shoddy benches and raised little spyglasses to examine the chained kith being paraded across a scaffold like so many convicts.

Their crime was not running fast enough.

“Where is Hiravias when you need him?” murmured Edér. Vailond gave him a fierce grin. Yes, Edér remembered the last Caed Nua interaction with a slaver…specifically, following him back to his vessel, killing him, and freeing the slaves. It had been Hiravias’s plan, and a good one.

The auctioneer was standing beside a chained godlike whose narrow shoulders expressed more in their slump than his whole black-plated face could. The auctioneer was talking in a continuous voice, soft yet clear even at a distance.

Maia cleared her throat. “The slave trade is legal in the Deadfire, but it’s strictly bring your own slaves. It’s illegal to take a Deadfire native into chattel.”

“That so?” said Vailond.

Pallegina nodded. “We can probably identify the ones who can walk free and clear.”

Vailond spoke low, so only her circle and maybe the back row of buyers could hear. “Ladies. Gentlekith. Three. Two. One.” She loosed a crossbow bolt at the auctioneer.

“That never does get old,” called Edér, already charging behind his shield.

Most of the buyers seemed surprised and horrified that anybody should interrupt their chattel auction. Vailond took out her long dagger when a guard charged her. She stabbed, sideswiped, neatly turned the man’s charge into Tekēhu’s waiting claws. It felt as good as a bath and twice as productive.

There were more slavers boiling out of doors and hatchways. Vailond turned around to see a big aumaua creeping up behind Maia. “Maia, duck,” yelled Vailond, and let a bolt fly. The man went down like a sack of refuse, which was appropriate.

In time no one was moving. Even the chained slaves seemed to wait in suspense.

“All right,” said Vailond. “You’re free.” She remembered Caed Nua. She remembered the Steward’s calm, gentle direction in all matters of logistics. She knew enough to work it herself. “Go upstairs and free the kitchen staff. Tell them Captain Vailond sends her regards, and then eat. There aren’t many people left on this island to compete with you. You can take the ships your slavers brought and get out of here with them.”

A defeated-looking orlan cast mournful eyes at her. “But what are we supposed to do?”

“Well, if you’re really bored…I have this plan. Get some food first.”

She stood with her friends, watching the slaves shake off their chains and stumble away. “Edér,” she said urgently.

Edér put away that axe she’d gotten for him. “I see her.”

“Do that super nice thing.”

He smiled and mussed Vailond’s hair, seemingly without thinking. Then he strode to the rapidly thinning line of chains and knelt by a weeping aumaua girl. She couldn’t have been older than five. Vailond watched as Edér spoke to her, tried to tease her gaze up to his. When he touched her shackle Vailond could see the unbandaged wound on the girl’s ankle. No wonder she wasn’t walking.

A teenaged boy called from the doorway. Another aumaua, much the worse for hunger. He ran down to hug the little girl. He led her a few steps toward the kitchen with everyone else and stopped when she cried out. Edér went to his knees, speaking slowly now, until the girl climbed up on his shoulders. He kept his hand off her wounded ankle as he stood, letting her sit up looking over his head. She grasped his hair and squealed, possibly the first joyful noise this courtyard had ever heard. Edér, heroically, kept her up while her teenaged friend reached to hold her hand. They walked on toward the food together.

Vailond took the others into the guts of the fortress. They hadn’t found their Ori O Koīki Wahaki yet. The hallways here reminded Vailond of Deadlight: cramped, stinking with rotted straw, built from huge dark stone blocks and sealed with heavy wooden doors. They opened cells as they went, telling the prisoners about the waiting food; at the very end of the very deepest passage they found a big room with close-set bars.

A voice sidled out. “Here, little bird.”

“And _what?_ ” Pallegina said tightly.

“Just a little closer,” the woman said. Her accent matched the people of Ori O Koīki.

“Are you Wahaki?” said Vailond. “Your ranga has words for you.”

The woman’s face, green and lean, showed between the bars. “You have been to Ori O Koīki?”

“Regards from your people. I have a promise that your warriors will come to aid the Huana once you’re back up to speed.”

“Speed?” said the woman, and laughed. “Try me.”

Xoti expertly undid the lock. A score of island aumaua filed out in good order and marched up toward the food. Vailond’s group followed them.

Xoti actually took up a spot in the corner of the big dining hall. She set down her lamp and beckoned people quietly and started healing the marks of their shackles, the stripes of their beatings.

Vailond came to her. “You all right with the living?” she said.

Xoti looked up. Her face looked luminous. “Gaun is the god of rebirth as well. And what is rebirth but starting again from nothing?”

“I’m glad. Get something to eat soon.”

Vailond did not follow her own advice. She waited outside the big dining hall, in a glassless window overlooking the courtyard. The abandoned chains crisscrossed the auction block like an owner’s final signature.

“A tour de force, Vail. You saved a lot of lives today.”

Vailond looked up, startled. It was just Aloth. He smiled at her like nothing was wrong after all.

She tried to think things through like he would. “What if it goes wrong and this was an awful idea?”

“‘All you can do is try to do something right in the present.’”

“Oh,” she said. “That's comforting, isn't it?”

“I thought so.”

There had been a moment when he had an arm around her, pushing the door, and instead of helping she had arched against him, desiring just one more thing before the end. Just that last evidence that she had lived, and had lived with him. There at the end he hadn’t fought her.

“I should,” they said. Had the hug been ambiguous? Why, why hadn’t she just kissed him?

“I’m going to check on the ship,” he said.

“Get some rest,” she said, and returned her attention to the courtyard.

“Captain, you are a fucking wonder.” Vailond almost fell out the window when Serafen carried a tray heaped with food into her field of vision. “Everybody’s settling in for a slaver-free evening. I think I heard Tekēhu singing in there.”

“And here I thought we were here to make them _less_ unhappy,” Vailond said innocently.

Serafen grinned. “Put some food in your mouth, lass, you look ready to fall over. Your operation’s gotten to be impressive. Were it my plan I’d still be emptying pockets whilst the newly liberated mill about.”

She perked up. “We can still do that.”

“Nah. Leave it to the ones who have no assets.”

“That a pirate talking?”

“It’s a man who has what he wants. Which leads me to my other point. Six people have asked me for access to your, eh, favors. I turned down the carnal ones.”

“That was probably for the best.”

“It be one thing to be your first mate. It be a fish of a different color to be your mate first.”

He seemed tense. “Too much publicity?”

He kissed her. Then he took a little tip of meat and set it to her lips. “Mind yourself,” he murmured. “I be royal arm candy but you should know the one time I owned a parrot it left me after three weeks of neglect.”

“You’re attentive. I wouldn’t have you if you weren’t very attentive.” He was here, and confusing. She took a chunk of roast something and slid it past her lips. Serafen smiled like he’d won at a game of chance. Or, maybe, at cards.


	19. The Price and Peril of Ukaizo's Fleet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond performs one more task for the Huana. The fleet sets forth to seek Ukaizo. One cipher has a long talk and another a brief action.

The return to Ori o Koīki was brief but triumphant. The Wahaki had taken a slaver’s vessel back from Crookspur, and they sailed in formation with the _Defiant_ to return home.

“We will sail for the Huana,” said their ranga.

Then it remained only to go to Neketaka and deliver the news. After that…Ukaizo.

Vailond tried not to see it, but day by day under publicity Serafen changed. Passionate was still the word, and playful, and yet, now and again he closed his eyes and Vailond felt alone with him next to her before they parted for the night. How could she complain? He was still her first mate, and still her mate. He had spent so long drifting from place to place and getting driven out from home after attempted home. She was not going to kick him out now. She hadn’t had sex this good in…ever, and confusion was not reason enough to end a good thing.

He smiled, and her heart thrilled. He smiled, and the worst part of her wondered whether he drifted because he wanted to.

*

“I’ve held up my end,” said Vailond. Now for Ukaizo.”

Vailond’s friends had gathered on the white-and-green rooftop garden where the Huana Queen kept court among tigers and aumaua. The sun was high, the prevailing mood tense, and Vailond knew that everyone but her own party would kill or die for Onekaza at a word.

Contrary to popular belief she did hate ending conversations with violence, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do it.

And yet. Here she had paid a reasonable price and expected a reasonable exchange. The Queen was complex but she was not mindlessly greedy.

“You have been as good as your word,” said the Queen. “There is one more matter we must discuss. I fear that I must ask you to dismiss your colonial friends.”

Oh. This was where the Huana came into direct conflict with – the Vailians? The Rauataians? Both? The Wahaki on the high seas were one thing…what was this?

Vailond realized her shoulders were tensed almost to her ears, and let out a hard breath. Whatever the Queen wanted, Vailond knew she had to pay attention in order to get to Ukaizo. “Pallegina…we’re friends. We always have been.”

Pallegina looked down on her. “And as your friend, you know what I advise.”

“I’m hearing her out.”

Pallegina’s second eyelids fluttered. “I know,” she said quietly. “The point of no return may be this very garden.”

Vailond looked at her feet. “If the price she asks is too much…”

“Would that I could convince you of that here and now.” Pallegina nodded. “Very well. I have a report to write.”

“Hm,” said Maia, watching her go. “Look, what she said, only more convincing.”

Vailond hesitated.

“It’s not too late for a shot of actual stability.”

“I have to hear her out.”

“You want to be polite? Be my guest. You want to succeed? Come with me to the Brass Citadel. Here and now. Think about this, Captain.”

The happiest she had seen the Deadfire was in Tekēhu’s luminous presence. And he belonged to his people. Maybe that was simplistic but it was true. “The ship’s open to you,” she said to Maia. For packing up and leaving, if she wanted. “Otherwise I’ll see you when this meeting is over.”

“Maybe so, Captain.” She turned on her heel and marched out, her boots clacking like little flintlocks. Each one was ready to fire.

Vailond turned back to Queen Onekaza. “All right,” she said. “I’m giving something up to be here. What do I get in return?”

“Access to lost Ukaizo,” the Queen said levelly. “Is that not your entire purpose since Eothas destroyed your home?”

“Fine. What do you want?”

The Queen told her.

“Oh.”

*

It was time for planning. Without Pallegina and Maia, the “command staff” felt small and bare. Still, Vailond hadn’t gotten to where she was by wilting in the face of trouble. They were shown to a room walled by intricate carvings of animals. It reminded Vailond of the sand trap. But here one wall was an aquarium, brightly lit, full of colorful fish.

It had listeners, she knew. No place on this island was free of those, and at least she was helping these ones. Gratitude might be good for something.

She kept her chin up. “I want you to stay behind, Tekēhu.”

Tekēhu’s head-tails tangled. “But the dangers involved? I can be of use to you.”

“If you’re there, the Huana are there. I can talk myself out of some things but I can’t bluff around that.”

“If you think my identity as Huana would compromise my loyalty to you…”

“Not your loyalty. Only the fact that people who notice you will blame the Queen. Does that make sense?”

“Too much, my friend. I will make myself visible elsewhere while you work.”

“Even better.”

He smiled. “I aim to improve all things I touch.”

“Which includes my life,” she said softly.

“Vailond, can I say something?” It was Aloth. Even in this light he looked pale. “I don’t believe we need resort to anarchy to make our point.”

“I’m sorry, Aloth. I don’t see how else to earn their support.”

“She has played us well.”

“You said yourself there always be the Vailians or the Rauatai,” said Serafen. “They’d be grateful for news of a conspiracy.”

“And eager to clear out some other corner of the Deadfire, violently,” Xoti said glumly. “At least this path goes fast.”

Vailond didn’t feel great about Serafen’s recommendation. She pulled him aside. “Serafen…how strongly do you feel about the Príncipi?”

His green eyes gleamed. “You mean do I want them on Ukaizo?”

“Is that why you’re still here?”

“I be here because you’re an incredible lay.”

“Be serious.”

“You be my captain. No one else. Mayhap politics will get snarled up if I stay loyal. We can deal with that as it comes. Furrante’s no good for a tumble, anyway.”

He meant more than that.

They changed out of obvious clothes. The party, without Pallegina, without Maia, without Tekēhu, swirled in the crowd to the Brass Citadel to do the Queen’s bidding.

The Brass Citadel had an orderly rush to it; most people knew where they wanted to go and wanted to get there with a minimum of fuss. “Serafen?” muttered Vailond. “If you were a powder magazine where would your back door be?”

“There be so many ways I could interpret that,” he purred. “There be a tower on top of the building. I’ll wager there be a way in there.”

Vailond was glad for her vine trick. It got people up the sheer wall near where a domed tower loomed over the harbor. The Royal Deadfire Company’s main powder store bristled beneath. If it went up in flames, and the Vailians were implicated, the Huana’s two greatest adversaries would be at one another’s throats.

“Xoti, I don’t know how your lamp interacts with gunpowder.”

“I would dearly love to not find out,” said Xoti.

“Stay up here and watch. If any guards show up, hide first, all right?”

“And how does that make my watching useful? I can handle a couple of guards, Vail.”

Vailond had to admit that. “Then keep it quiet.”

“Like a mouse. Good luck.”

Serafen, Edér, Aloth. Months ago she would have been dying of tension just moving among these men. Now…well, Edér was comfortable at last, and Aloth had his wall up, and Serafen, well, he was capable of acting normal. It was just three people she trusted, and plenty of trouble to get into.

Aloth summoned a tiny bronze sphere that gave off orange light. It brought up monstrous shadows from the barrels and stacks around them. At the same time, it felt homey. Aloth was nearby, and he was okay. It didn’t matter if he was mad at her or not.

Downstairs. Downstairs. Downstairs. “Here,” Edér whispered. Vailond didn’t see anything special about the barrel and pan he had selected, but he cracked open a barrel, laid two tracks of black powder over the floor, and pulled out a little paper package the Huana had given them. “We’ve got a minute,” he said, and struck a spark on the package with his regular flint and steel, and started bolting upstairs.

Serafen followed like he was stuck to Edér’s boots. Aloth looked to Vailond. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Don’t stay long,” she said, and ran. The light followed her and him with it. Something, at least, was going right.

They burst out onto the battlement and Vailond realized she had no idea how far they should run. “Xoti,” she gasped as they ran.

But when they stopped and turned, Xoti wasn’t there. Serafen was holding her lamp.

“She left this,” he said roughly.

“They…captured her?” Vailond said queasily. “Damn it. I am not losing anyone else tonight. I am _not_ losing anyone else!”

Something deep below belched. Vailond ran a little further and turned around in time to see the fire spitting from slit window after slit window…and then through cracks in the walls…and then through the crumbling tower top they had just left.

Vailond wasn’t sure whether the structure or the contents had been more expensive. But that didn’t matter. Xoti had been separated from her lamp.

“Vailond,” said Aloth.

“What?”

“We may have to deal with this by facing the Rauatai directly.”

“If Plan A was to fight our way into the entire Citadel?” said Edér. “Yeah. Maybe asking nicely could help. What are they going to do, throw the Watcher in prison?”

There was a pause.

“What was that about Plan A again?” rumbled Serafen.

“Hey! Stop!” It was an unfamiliar voice, coming fast. “You!”

Vailond stuck out her chest. “You! You’ve abducted my crew! Stand and fight or tell me where she is!”

“You—” the aumaua boggled—“you blew up the magazine!”

“I don’t know where your damned magazine is and I don’t care! Where is my crew? Try to disarm me and I will extract your teeth one by one by way of your lower intestine. Atsura knows my associate Maia. I will have words with him.”

Well, if she screwed this up, they were definitely going to die.

*

“Atsura,” Vailond said over again. Maybe Maia had already reported. Maybe the only live way out of here was siding with the Royal Deadfire Company. Maybe.

Xoti’s wrists were bound behind her back. She faced a big aumaua over a desk. She snarled.

“You,” Vailond said coldly. “One of my crew was lured here under dark of night and apparently nearly blown up, and I will have answers!”

“Is that…the Watcher?” said the guard she wasn’t mentally skewering with her finger. “It is the _Defiant_! I knew it!”

“Your friend,” the Rauataian spymaster said calmly, “was just telling me the most interesting story.”

“You don’t have to give him the cover,” Vailond said loudly. “Atsura, what is the meaning of this! First the Vailians roust my people out of bed to chase a conspiracy in the Brass Citadel, then you…you _abduct_ one of my own? I will come down on the Vailians on our own time but this, this attempt to assassinate one of my people—!”

“Nobody blew up our entire powderhouse to get to your wayward priestess,” Atsura said dryly.

“I don’t want your war, Atsura.”

“Then don’t start them,” said Atsura.

“Vail,” Xoti said quietly. She sounded disoriented. They must have slammed her hard to get her to stop praying.

“What is it?” said Vailond.

When Xoti opened her mouth a drop of blood gathered at the join of her lips. “I told them about the Huana.”

“What, the ones that our Vailian ‘friends’ wanted us to frame? That doesn’t change anything.”

“Truth is an elusive matter,” Atsura said idly. “Ah. Another piece of the puzzle approaches.”

Vailond’s heart lifted, squeezed, sank, and turned flips when Maia walked in. Maia frowned at her. “Didn’t I just…?” said Maia.

Time to beg for an alibi. Stupid, but strategic lying might just carry the day. “You were eating across from Arkemyr’s, weren’t you?” said Vailond. “Did you see that Vailian creep who wanted Xoti?”

“I assumed you had a reason,” said Maia. “Atsura, why are they here?”

“They sabotaged the powder magazine,” said the spymaster. “I’m sure you noticed.”

“Impossible. They were on the Overlook until I left. Only Xoti left early with Mr. Puffysleeves.” Maia shook her head. “No. Trouble, now? _Ukaizo is the only priority_.”

And for that, she would lie.

Atsura frowned at her. “Would you swear that a Vailian agent dragged the human into this?”

“On Ishi’s tail-feathers, sir. Big guy, for a human. Dark hair. Complete fashion plate. Unfortunately I’ve seen a million like him.” Maia didn’t look at her. An excuse to attack the Vailians? Maybe that was enough for her.

An excuse to get Vail out of here unscathed and ready for Ukaizo. She did realize that.

“In the interest of peace with the Watcher,” said Atsura, “I release you all. It would be well for you not to be seen in the Citadel again.”

Vailond didn’t think Maia. How could she?

Queen Onekaza smiled when Vailond returned. “The Vailians at fault for the Deadfire Company’s failures. Could it be neater?”

“Do you have my ships?”

“They can sail within the hour.”

She was as good as her word. The _Defiant_ joined with Huana vessels, plus two shiploads of freed slaves, singing in boisterous, fractured harmonies as they went. They set a course for the narrow channel that would bring them to Ukaizo.

*

Vailond watched off the bow. The winds brought them to this island and that, but what Vailond lacked in weather control she made up for in stubbornness. Ukaizo was waiting, and with it, the god who meant to smash the Wheel of reincarnation. This scared the shit out of the other gods, which was a plus…but it did mean that as Berath’s chosen she had to be present.

Gritting her teeth, Vailond watched off the bow.

*

Serafen shaded his eyes when the albatross leaned toward the _Defiant_. Good birds. Voyagers who never got lost.

First mate on a famous ship. Fucking the captain. He had authority, funding, all the brawls he could barge into, and the unswerving backing of a notorious commander. People who knew he knew her treated him with respect. People who knew how well he knew her treated him with awe.

The albatross was angling away again. It wasn’t tied down. He had everything, and it was just a stupid bird.

He still hadn’t decided what to tell her when the time came.

*

Vailond stepped out onto deck and squinted around. Edér was lounging by the helm. He waved a friendly hello and walked to meet her.

“Everything okay?” he said.

“Should it not be?” she said.

“You notice the sharp uptick in Serafen staring aimlessly into the ocean?”

“He’s dealing with a lot right now.”

“I know. Vail, there’s something you should see.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I…I’m not sure.” He shoved a hand in his pocket. “I found this. You weren’t supposed to get it.”

She blinked uncomprehendingly at the crumpled paper he pulled out. “Is the crew safe?” she said.

“All but maybe one. Just read it. It isn’t mine to tell. And it’s not my business what you choose.” He grinned off at no one in particular. “That’s all.” He touched her shoulder and strolled off across the slanting deck.

Vailond took the paper back to her cabin. She was comfortable enough reading these days, but whatever it was had put Edér on edge, and that would have to be treated with focused care..

She read Aloth’s crumpled letter.

_Captain…_

She found herself staring at his pointed, precise signature at the bottom. She tried again.

_We have had little time together, all in all. Only enough for me to understand that a woman like you happens by once in a lifetime, maybe less. The window is brief, and I missed it._

And, then, over again,

_If I push you away, it’s because I cannot settle for less than all of you…. Give me no half measures unless you begin with two of them._

A third, fourth, fifth time…

_I leave you with that ultimatum, knowing you have no reason whatsoever to fulfill it. If you will have me, I will face the gods with you._

_I will face it all with you._

_Yours in fidelity and some remote, selfish hope,_

She pushed tears aside. Was this the key to his constant evasions? Did he once again believe she couldn’t have heart enough for everyone?

Would Serafen get bored soon? She would never have believed it would simplify things.

She found Serafen in the mess and beckoned him up to her cabin. Words pounded in her ears.

“Lass, either you didn’t like breakfast or you’re thinking about something. You’re not excessively given to facial expressions.”

“Serafen, I want you to have the _Defiant_ when I go back to Caed Nua.”

“Go to…you _jest_.” Serafen rolled his eyes. “By Ondra's own tits, I will never understand how you can spend so much time staring forward and still see nothing but the past.”

“I am a Watcher. I can’t get away from the past.”

“Make a future. The sea’s taken you, lass, and the sea doesn’t let go lightly. Don’t promise me a rank you won’t be vacating.”

“I mean it. It’s yours.”

“No.”

“Aren’t you happy here?”

“About as happy as I’ve ever been.” He looked away. “You’ve made the _Defiant_ welcoming. But.” He frowned, concentrating. “A lay however frequently repeated does not a home make. The people you really love? Some may be used to me, but I’d lay a dead wager that the only one who’d dive off the edge to drag me back be you.”

“Have you felt alone this entire time?” she said, stricken.

“Not when I’m with you, lass. The rest of it I could take or leave.”

He meant it. This was him saying goodbye.

And…it was time.

“Will you stay until this is done?” she said hoarsely.

“You don’t need me. You’ve a fucking navy on your side.”

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite. Will you wave before you go?”

“Vail. Just you be enough to go on, we’ll always—”

“You know I don’t like liars. Will you wave before you go?”

“That’s not so much to ask.” He nodded. “But first, Ukaizo.”

“Thank you.” No promises beyond that. She bit her lip until the urge to beg passed.

“You know you’ll regret it if you chew off your own lip,” he said.

She made a face. “Why are you always right?”

“Many years’ hard practice, my beauty.” His smile was no less stunning for being temporary.

*

The _Defiant_ pulled up alongside first one freed slave ship, then the other. Serafen engaged in brief, intense conversations with each, but there was also rebalancing of resources, some consultation on what to do if the gods showed themselves. These people were destitute and strained, but willing to make something bigger. When the _Defiant_ reached the _Soheina_ Serafen seemed to come to some kind of decision.

He drew the captain aside and spoke with her, and Vailond knew what he was talking about, and she couldn’t stop him.

“A shiphunter!” cried the captain. “For a mate? What luck!”

Serafen waved. He’d promised he would.

Was it that simple? Was it that…?

“Full speed,” she said numbly. “Let’s outrun the entire fleet.” Him, too.

“Vail, are you sure…?” Tekēhu looked agonizingly sympathetic.

“I’m sure,” she said. “Come on, there’s wind going to waste.”

*

Aloth walked across Vailond’s cabin. He walked back. She was busy with ship’s business and honestly he should be out there with her but something had changed, and he wasn’t sure what, and he needed to get her alone to sort it out. Something had changed since the other ship had borrowed Serafen. It was taking every ounce of mental discipline he had to keep from hoping. Most likely there was an innocent explanation. He had to know what.

Something next to the desk creaked. Aloth stood against the far wall and watched, summoning a small cube of force that would make whoever was coming regret the decisions that had brought them there. A trap door in Vailond’s quarters? Was that…was that what Serafen had used, all this time? Was this him coming back?

It was that doubt that kept him in place when the grungy human popped the door open and stared into his eyes.

Suddenly Aloth was not there. He was on a forested path, carrying something heavy, sick with dread for its eventual reception. And he was in the air, falling, a cliff behind, a waterfall’s white knee below. And he was riding as fast as his lathered horse could carry him, still not fast enough for the things that chased…

“It ain’t her!” yelled someone, far outside the bewildering stream of visions. “Damn it, wait until she gets here and get it right this time!”

Aloth was on the ground, curled up, his stomach hurting. That one felt like an echo, like he’d known it himself for a long time. He was splitting wood, his shoulders burning, his ears still ringing from the conversation he should never have started. He was curled up and the world was a scream.

Vail, he thought. Vail, don’t look. Don’t look…

*

Whatever voice Vailond heard in her cabin, it wasn’t supposed to be there. She wound her crossbow and beckoned for Edér to join her.

“What are—” he stopped when she touched her lips. She brought up three fingers, two, one, and pushed the door open.

Edér charged, swinging. Vailond slipped in behind him. There were two strangers, Vailian by dress, though that might not mean anything. One was a weaselly man with a stiletto. The other…

Vailond jerked her head as if to physically avoid the cipher’s assault. She felt the glance of a memory that was not her own. Like a Watcher could be so fooled. She aimed for the chest and got the neck. Edér turned the sleeve over the wound before it could spray blood across the room.

Two strangers. Both very dead.

“Aloth,” said Edér, nodding. “He must’ve been there before us.”

Aloth was crumpled on floor where the bed would fold down. Vailond shook her head. “He would never…I mean, he wouldn’t help them.”

“Help them? Look at him. I think he got a faceful of whatever they wanted to do to you.”

“A cipher,” Vailond said, dreading. “Oh, no. Aloth. Aloth, can you hear me?”

Aloth lay, shaking, his eyelashes fluttering and always ending closed.

“What’d they do to you?” said Edér.

“I don’t think he can hear us. What he’s seeing…it isn’t us.”

“I don’t suppose a firm shake will snap him out of it? Bucket of cold water?”

“We can try. I just drove out our one cipher. Oh, that was a stupid idea…”

“Aloth!” Edér had the scholar by the shoulders, and he shook hard. “Aloth, come on! Whatever you’re looking at I guarantee we can stage something more interesting here and now. Don’t you want to see that? Aloth!”

“Help me get the bed down,” said Vailond. “I don’t want him to hurt himself rolling around here.”

Edér swept Aloth up like so much fluff and Vailond pulled down and secured the bed. Edér laid Aloth down and straightened, looking down at him. “Vail?”

“Edér? Any more ideas?”

“Not exactly new ones. Listen, that letter I gave you, the one he threw away…a long time ago, outside Gilded Vale, Aloth woke in the middle of the night. And it seemed pretty obvious he wasn’t done dreaming yet, you know he was doing that not-exactly-drool thing. And he looked like it hurt. But then he caught sight of you. And suddenly the tension and the pain were gone. He never talked about it. I’m not sure he even remembers it. But you’d known him for three days and you were a touchstone for him. There were times I felt guilty for taking up space in your heart when he’s the one who wanted it, but what was I supposed to say?”

“You shouldn’t have had to say anything.”

“It’s over between us. Isn’t it?”

“You are merely my best friend.”

Edér smiled. “He’ll wake soon. I’m sure of it.”

“Don’t go yet. It’s quiet here, and I need to stay awake.”

He raised his eyebrows. “All right, but I’m not an entertainer.”

“I know.”

Aloth curled up on Vailond’s bed. Vailond sat on the edge, and Edér stretched out on the chair. “Wish I knew how to do more.”

“We’re here,” she said. “Maybe that’s all we can do.”

He eyed her. “Look, I’ve been turning certain things over in my mind.”

Vailond had thought her heart could sink no lower. She had been wrong.

“I guess I don't know where I'm going when all this is over.”

“You're always welcome with me.” Something ghosted across his face then…fatigue? “But maybe the _Defiant_ ’s too small for you now.”

“I've had my share of big.” But he was restless, too.

“You could check up on Bearn. I don't think he has anyone now.”

He nodded. “Bearn. You're right. You…that'd go a long way toward settling with Elafa. The way I never got to.”

Vailond smiled. “If you need passage through the tricky parts.”

He smiled slowly. “Wouldn't miss it for the world. You are, merely, my best friend.”

They sat in companionable silence. Finally Edér said, “If there are more stowaways I should find out. Will you be okay here?”

“I’ll be fine. Good night.”

Then there were two. Aloth was lying, shaking, watching whatever it was that cipher had put on repeat in his head. Vailond shook his arm again. He didn’t respond. A fleck of spittle edged from the corner of his mouth. She had kicked out their only cipher and this was her fault. There was nothing she could do.

Or was there?

“I suppose you won’t sleep until this passes,” she said. “Remember what you used to do for me? Let me tell you a story.” She swallowed hard. She thought about him, lost in his own mind…as distant as ever.

“Once upon a time there was a wizard,” she said. “And he was brave and good and very clever. He studied things about the world, and things about magic, and history. He was very good at history. And everyone who knew him knew that when things got hard, his compass always pointed true.

“And once upon a time there was a girl. She was not as brave or good or clever. But he liked her, and that made her part of something special. He saved her life. He saved her pride. He saved her friends. He saved her sanity. And all she ever gave him was more trouble.”

She looked down. She was holding his hand. His eyes were showing whites and nothing more.

“She had feelings for this wizard. There always seemed to be something in the way. His past. Her madness. People. A godsdamned cipher’s curse. The messages were always wrong, the timing always bad. You know that, right? And sometimes she just felt like, maybe things aren’t lining up because there’s a reason they’re not lining up. Then again, maybe things aren’t lining up because the gods disapprove. If it’s that, I’ll tunnel in and fuck you myself.

“Language, I know. It’s just that I don’t know what to call it when you’ve waited as long as we have.”

She squeezed his hand. Something caught in her throat.

“I knew Serafen wouldn’t always be here. I’m not a complete fool. I didn’t want to be the one to abandon him…he’s been abandoned so many times, you don’t know.

“And yet.

“You’re the right one. You’re the…kind one, the one I can see in a year or a million. And I swear by every god I ever slandered, and that’s a lot, if you ever came to me I would take you, I would give you…what I have, for what that’s worth.

“That’s the moral of the story. Aloth. Aloth?” Nothing. “Aloth, please. Don’t leave me. I haven’t even told you about the part where the wizard and the girl finally get to be together. Don’t you want to hear that part?” Nothing. “D-do you? Because if it ends here it’s a shitty story.”

He was still breathing.

*

Vailond woke sore, for some reason. Her crusted lids resisted opening. She heard someone nearby. Serafen? But he never…

She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “Aloth?”

He was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was twisting to look at her. “You stayed with me,” he said hoarsely.

“That was incredibly uncomfortable,” she said, and laughed shakily.

He gestured at his own skull. “Did Serafen clear this up?”

“Serafen’s gone.”

“What? But…temporarily?”

“No. Not temporarily.”

Expressions flew across Aloth’s face too quickly to understand. “What happened?”

“He wanted to leave. And I wanted to let him leave.”

He looked utterly perplexed. “Why?”

Because. Because she hadn’t finished the story of the wizard and the girl. Because she had taken Aloth for granted, and almost lost him as a result. Because she was done assuming he would just be there. Because she needed him to be. She took in a sharp breath and wasn’t sure what words would come out. After all her delays, what could possibly convince him…?

Edér stuck his head in. “Good, you’re up. It’s time.”


	20. Defiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond's forces reach Ukaizo, and Vailond faces her fate.

The _Defiant’s_ boat brought Vailond and her closest crew to a round jetty tormented by spray.

This is where Vailond had to step outside herself a little bit and look around. Really, really look.

The jetty was of gray and green stone. Its lip was ruined in places, with piles of rubble sloping over intricate mosaics. Two tall and shiny-looking statues stood watch, swords pointed down, by square ruined pillars. Between the pillars ran a causeway up into a forest of domes and spires in museum colors.

“You know,” said Edér, “if I was going to set a deadly trap in my ancient fortress…”

“I know,” she said, winding her crossbow. “Let’s see how far we get.”

Aloth’s head came up sharply. He looked like he hadn’t slept, and she didn’t want to push him. “Vail, strolling between fortress walls with a known enemy somewhere within range…”

She shrugged. “I mean, I’m up for it.” She saw his wince because she was watching for it. She really didn’t mean to hurt him. “Should we wait?”

The question was never discussed. Something of green adra and purple glow swam snakelike to the edge of the jetty and jumped up in the form of the biggest dragon Vailond had ever seen. It seemed to be stone and adra from its blunt head to its segmented tail.

“Whoa,” said Edér. “That’s, uh…where would you even stab something like that?”

“Joints,” said Vailond. “Guardian. I assume. We’re here to stop Eothas. Are you going to get in our way?”

“The green one goes by the ancient accords,” said the guardian in a massive shiver of a voice. “It is my place to stop you.”

“Great guardian, did you come alone? I want to get the respect right.” Vailond said it brightly. Dragons liked to be talked about.

“Once there were many. Now…only I remain.”

“Perfect.” Vailond looked around at her arc of allies. “Aim for the neck.”

Vailond’s crossbow was utterly useless against a metal construct. She knelt, seeking the feeling of life around her, and got it with a richness that left her dizzy. The shiny statues were moving, charging into the fray – well, in fairness, Vailond hadn’t asked whether non-dragons had come. She lashed an explosion of leafy vines around their feet and they toppled to the mosaic, jabbing tiles out with every thrash. Her companions had closed with the dragon, snapping limbs everywhere they could, though its snakey neck stayed high above the bulk of the ground battle.

None of that. Vailond brought up one more vine, looped it behind the dragon’s head, and pulled with every ounce of energy she had. The adra guardian was the sexiest construct money could buy a few thousand years ago, but she was the Watcher of Caed Nua and the Captain of the _Defiant_ and that had to be worth something.

She felt someone else pulling, too. Tekēhu was hauling his own weight and then some. Together the coils of watery life took the thing’s head down.

Eder swung his hammer into the construct’s nose like playing a game. It shivered and fell apart, link by link. Vailond brought her crossbow up for the statues, but Xoti and Aloth had already rained pure destruction on the footprints of the vines.

“So how cool was that?” said Vailond.

“I think I blunted my hammer,” said Edér. “Do those get blunter?”

“Ekera, may their next guardian be more fragile.” Tekēhu rubbed his neck and grinned. “Though you and I may wear down some mighty colossi, given the excuse.”

“We need to find Eothas,” said Vailond. “Everyone all right?”

They sounded off with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Vailond led them between the ruined pillars and onto a broad boulevard that curved up over lesser buildings to deliver them higher on the city’s hill.

“Found him,” said Xoti. Everyone looked where she pointed. Over a rank of domed buildings, through a murky veil, the familiar adra colossus was clearing something with its arms. Vailond’s stomach tightened. Yes, he had exerted effort destroying Caed Nua, too. Whatever she thought of his current goal, she would not forget the history.

“What is all that in the way?” said Tekēhu. “It is made of water and clouds, I say.”

“Ondra’s veil protecting only part of the city?” said Aloth. “I don’t suppose you could persuade her to let it down.”

“She does not come for the asking, alas,” said Tekēhu.

“I don’t think she likes my plan,” said Vailond. “Do machines sustain this stuff? That seems pretty Engwithan, doesn’t it?”

“If it is,” said Xoti, “I’ve got just the place in mind.” She pointed up the hill to a tower where gleamed something too…restless…to be a lamp.

“Here we go,” said Vailond. They passed through a huge moss-lipped plaza and started uphill.

Vailond stopped them at the next plaza. She had gotten this far on determination, but…they were getting close, and she had no guarantee that her will would convince anyone. She had lost so many people just to get here. If she had to lose someone else...well, she wasn’t ready for that.

“This may be our last chance to talk.” She found herself unable to look at her companions. “Until after everything’s sorted out and the gods are back in their boxes.” Berath would let her off the hook then. Right? She could go home to Caed Nua and rebuild without divinity?

“I know saving the Wheel puts is in hock to the gods for the next several thousand years,” she said. “And I know the gods can fuck me over if I get too uppity about it. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Why are we propping up the construct they’re tilting? I’ve spoken with the gods. I’ve heard what they want. And I would trust any thirty kith in this forsaken island chain more than I trust any one of them. Eothas wants to smash the wheel? Fine. We’ve got whole nations working on animancy, and they’ll come up with something.” She bit her lip. “Okay. Disagreement?”

“I want to support you,” said Edér. “I’m just not sure we’ll get the answer in time.” He talked about his mother’s spinning wheel and his disastrous attempts to fix it once he’d broken it. “I can’t stop thinking about that.”

“There are good people to work on this,” said Vailond. “We’ll find a way to restore reincarnation without the gods.”

He smiled crookedly. “Well, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe you can do absolutely anything you want, somehow.”

“My people called the Engwithans outsiders,” said Tekēhu. “Perhaps this is my own doorstep I am returning to. I owe my birth to a goddess…but I owe my life to a higher cause than that.”

“We’ve made it this far,” said Xoti. “Why not square off with my god before our luck runs dry?”

“That doesn’t strictly follow,” Edér said mildly. “Still, you’re the one in up to your elbows. I just swing stuff.”

“A path where the kith define their own future is a path I’m willing to support,” said Aloth. He looked deadly tired. “There is…one last thing, before we go.”

“What is it?”

“We’ll be along in a moment.” Aloth’s attempt to dismiss everyone did nothing. He came shyly to stand before Vailond. He leaned in, close. Vailond started trying to think of reasons why he would do that and all of them were too mind-fogging to think about just then.

He leaned almost past her face so his mouth was near her ear. “I know you’ll do your best,” he whispered. “And I know you will succeed. Do whatever you need to. I’ll take care of the others for you.” He kissed her cheek, light and gentle.

“I got your letter,” she whispered in a rush. He jerked back, wide-eyed. I love you. Maybe he heard it as he joined the others. Or maybe she hadn’t voiced it at all.

The path led up to a huge tower topped by a moving piece of machinery. Rings inside rings inside rings, turning to a rhythm Vailond didn’t completely understand.

She didn’t have to. She remembered enough of Engwithan technology to recognize and activate the control panel. There were straightforward controls to stop the machine and the storms it controlled.

There was something else, too. Something that reminded Vailond of Tekēhu’s sculptures. “Tekēhu. Is this…watershaping?” She moved outside to show him.

“By the depths….” He stared hungrily, watching how Vailond manipulated the display and eagerly taking a hand himself. “These are practices lost for a thousand years or more. I must…I will help you, of course. Can we return here?”

“Does this mean you don’t have to keep the dragon enslaved?”

“It means more than that, my friend.”

“Then we’re coming back here.” She ran the controls to shut the machine down. There was a general sigh. As Vailond watched, the veil of storm and mist between herself and Eothas went limp and settled among the rooftops.

“Back down to the promenade,” she said. “Before any more gods decide to get in my head.”

They rounded a curve and saw a grouping of kith in a green-draped plaza.

“Oh,” said Xoti. “We shut off the island storms, too.”

Vailond raised a hand for peace and approached none other than Captain Furrante and a half dozen pirates who looked above the usual cut of armed and armored.

“Where’s Serafen?” she said.

“Is that your first priority here, Captain?” Furrante smiled unpleasantly.

“If you have Serafen I will saw your elbows off and reinstall them backwards with a rusty shiv.” Vailond realized she was snarling. She was snarling because she was afraid Serafen would be here of his own free will.

“Oh, you’ve poisoned him against his own kind,” said Furrante. “Ac, it is a sad thing to see a fish out of water. Or a shiphunter without a ship. Or a lover…so very far, from his love.”

“Walk now. Give Serafen anything he wants. And I’ll call us even.”

“Serafen was my crew before he was your toy, Captain. I do not possess him. I never did. Now will you pay attention to the matter at hand? Namely, Ukaizo. My golden city.”

“I’ve got eight ships offshore that say otherwise.”

“Fewer than eight,” he drawled. “Come. You’ll have a share in all the treasure we find. For the sake of our friendship. For the sake of the man in your life, whom I can still reach. You and I both know that’s all the reward you care about, Captain.”

“You know what you forgot to mention, Captain?”

“Ah? What is that?”

“Anything that would save your life. Friends?” She saw them spring into action as she shot Furrante’s hat off. Damn. She meant to get the mouth.

Happily, she got her chance at that in the ugly, brief melee.

*

The gods did not speak further. Could they abduct Vailond from Ukaizo itself? Maybe not. In the end, this decision was hers.

Once more Vailond’s party found a platform that brought them within shouting distance of the adra colossus.

Below and around were Ukaizo: gray domes and green columns, mosaics glimmering with the remnants of the storm. And, not so far away, a gap in which turned a vast waterwheel. Vailond opened her Watcher’s eye and staggered backwards under the impulse of a million souls, each trailing dozens of lifetimes behind them.

“Xoti,” she whispered. “Keep your lamp shut.” Opening it now would kill her. And possibly everyone around her.

Eothas stood at the edge of the gulf where the wheel turned. Now he turned around. His own sigil burned on his forehead: five rays and three stars beneath.

“Eothas!” roared Vailond.

“Vailond,” said Eothas. “Selective blindness may be a virtue, until you are stronger.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to be stronger. Don’t you dare tell me that what you did made me better!”

“I need not belabor. I brought you here because I trust you, and because you can trust me. We will set a great injustice right.”

Edér clenched his fists. “You want us to clean up what the gods broke? We’ve been doing that anyway! You don’t need to contribute to the mess!”

“Stop talking like you’re so generous,” added Vailond. “You kill everything you touch! And you want to leave every single soul you’ve stolen in the In-Between forever! Explain to me how that makes you the good guy in any imaginable reality!”

“Some must suffer for a greater good to be obtained.”

“Fine. Smash it. But we’re putting up kith animancy in its place. I will take help from no god.”

“I don’t think you ever needed to.” He raised one hand. Vail hated holding still for it. But something released in her at his touch. “There. Berath’s claim is lifted.” He turned away. “I will make a beginning of this.”

“And don’t expect us to thank you!” howled Vailond, but he was already in motion, wading to the great wheel. He reached in and started tearing.

Vailond didn’t owe this to the gods. She didn’t. She didn’t. But she opened her awareness once more.

The souls here were not just entities, they were ribbons, violet and green and white, life after life after trailing life. She had seen a few at a time in her nightmares in Defiance Bay. But this was the wheel of the world.

And, as Eothas dragged it to a halt, she could not tell any of them where they would go next. In-Between, in the moment of death. No one would pull them out until animancers came up with their own reincarnation scheme. Souls streamed around the great adra figure now, figures too bright to understand, ribbons fluttering into the collapse of the wheel.

“We’ll catch you,” she whispered. She didn’t know how, but hadn’t she already seen too many souls in pain? At Caed Nua they would research a way to clean this up, to give people new lives. They had to.

“Vail.” Aloth’s voice was faint but she thrilled to it. She closed her eyes, all of them. “Vail, can you hear me?”

“I’m okay,” she said.

“Look,” said Tekēhu. “Our giant friend seems to be getting the worse of it.”

Eothas was still swinging, but as Vailond watched his left arm fell away, and flying debris destroyed one of the white flames on his forehead.

“Is he gonna die for this?” said Edér. “Again?”

“I don’t think it’ll stick,” said Xoti.

“The Wheel is really broken,” said Aloth. “We have work ahead of us.”

Vail fell down, a little bit. Gods and souls would have to wait as she curled up.

*

They got Vailond walking, which was more dignified than carrying her. She appreciated that.

Vailond thanked the freed slaves with a wave, and the Huana with the gestures she had learned from Tekēhu. Then she took her friends, the ones that remained, and boarded the _Defiant_.

She had spotted a blue orlan defending the shore, but she didn’t see him after.

Edér was at the helm. “Hey, are we missing one?”

Vailond walked up close because she didn’t trust her voice to hold. “Serafen’s gone.”

“But he’s coming back.”

“No.”

“What, did he fall? Don’t tell me he tripped and drowned, or I’ll personally make sure he never lives it down.”

“He’s leaving on another ship.”

“And?”

“He’s not coming back, Edér.”

“You don’t know….”

“I do.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Edér’s hug squeezed he tears out of her. He held her, and he was big, strong, entirely too stupid to run out of her radius of destruction. She hugged his torso and let herself breathe naturally, which meant some sobs in the middle there.

Finally, she said, “I’m okay.” She left his shelter. “I’ll be okay.”

“Listen, about Bearn, I can….”

“Go to him. As soon as you can. I think you’ll make a great father.”

“It means everything to me that you’re all right with this.”

“Just visit, okay?”

“Every chance I get.”

“You never abandoned me. Probably should have, but you never did. That’s worth a hundred Serafens.”

She spoke to the crew. For the rest of her life she wouldn’t know what she said. Eothas in one ear, Serafen in the other: she could barely understand words. The funny thing was, she performed it flawlessly. She returned to her cabin and smoothed out the letter.

_Give me no half measures unless you begin with two of them._

Hurriedly now she undressed, washed, and then put them on in order: chemise, tunic, chain tunic, leather duster. She had a giant shiny belt to put around the duster’s waist. She had to look grand. She had to look ready for battle. It was what she was good at.

*

The gods scattered, the Wheel destroyed. Vailond finally free of their babbling. Aloth thought of going to her cabin. But Serafen would be there and Aloth couldn’t bear to interrupt the festivities.

He thought about leaving, too. After this challenge Vailond wouldn’t need his support. She had her plaything, and maybe she’d always been strong enough to survive with only a plaything at her side. He didn’t want to think that of her, but he did.

A knock came on his bunk door. Was there another emergency already? Or was this an invitation to drink with a boisterous crew?

He opened the door. Vailond was there. Vailond was not cloistered in her room with…anyone. She was there.

She looked tense. “A-Aloth, I need to talk to you.”

“Vail? What’s wrong?”

“Come with me?” She stepped away. He followed, and she spun to lead him back up toward her cabin.

“You’re upset,” he said, struggling to keep up. “What happened?”

She pushed the door open and stood aside to let him in. Her bed was stowed, her writing desk closed, her table cleared of all goods. It looked like nobody lived there.

“What’s wrong?” he said again.

“Please let me finish this before you say anything,” she said.

More distressed than ever, he stilled. “All right. I’m listening.”

“Serafen is gone.” His mouth opened of its own accord. Vailond raised a silencing hand. Strangely, she didn’t seem totally torn up about it. “I had warning and I know why he’s leaving and that’s okay, it’s really okay. And, look, I know you think I’m a slut and I know you think there’s no room for you but you’re wrong. It just never…you were evil or I was evil or you didn’t think I could love you because my heart’s not big enough. And all I had to go on was a kiss where I couldn’t tell whether you were kissing me back.”

He studied her. “I can clear up that ambiguity,” he said, mostly in surprise to himself.

She rubbed her arms with the opposite hands. “Would you? Just, one, where I’m sure you meant it.”

Permission. Anxious and fugitive. Vailond stiffened and sucked a breath between her teeth when he put his arms around her waist. He controlled his movements, pretended that he could stand to be gentle. He kissed her, paying full attention this time. He was through with the treachery of silences and through with watching her break her heart on every reef they crossed. She was close, and hot, and slowly open-mouthed, and her groan when he slipped between her lips shattered him. He wanted her beyond reason and beyond any intelligible hope. She pressed him like breaking her fall, touched him like conjuring the storm. It took the self-control of a lifetime not to follow when she tore away.

Close. Too distant. “Damn it all,” she whispered, her eyes screwed shut. “I’m going to explode if we don’t—”

And that’s when Edér burst in.

*

“Vail, there’s someone outside about—” Edér snapped his mouth shut. He looked at where Aloth was energetically pretending he hadn’t been plumbing Vailond’s mouth. Vailond could sing for amusement. Then Edér smiled. “I knew it! They all said it would never happen, but I knew it.” He was grinning ear to ear. “You know how long you’ve been dancing around this?”

Vailond smiled. “Two months.”

“And seven days.” Aloth’s eyes were only for Vailond.

“Five and a half years, you two dunderheads. There’s days I thought I would have to lock you in someplace with a featherbed.”

“That’s not necessary,” Aloth said nervously.

Edér eyed the folded-down bed. “Straw tick’ll do,” he said critically.

Vailond laughed – it took a staggering weight from her heart – and let Aloth back away. “Did you need something?”

“My pool to pay up, for one thing. Gods, I’m glad to see the two of you.”

Edér’s enthusiasm was impossible to turn down. “Thanks,” said Vailond. “I’m glad, too.”

“If you hurt him I will bruise internal organs you didn’t know you had. —I never get to threaten people like that, usually it’s about the looming.”

Vailond laughed. “He’s safe with me.”

“I know,” said Aloth.

“There’s nothing important out there,” said Edér. “I can keep folks away from the door for a while.”

Vailond thought of the shy spirit beside her. “That’s not—”

“Yes,” said Aloth, touching the small of her back for permission or support or intention or, after all, everything. “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go!


	21. All Hunts End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vailond's companions go on their ways. Vailond has one discovery left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big shout out to Orime for hugely encouraging commenting since this project’s inception!

They closed together like a golden clasp. Vailond squeezed hard, and slowly, somewhat incredulously, Aloth returned it.

She whispered in his ear. “Aloth, you always tell me when I’m screwing up. Tell me. If I’m screwing this up.”

“I doubt you will.” He turned his head and caught her mouth and she hoped, as hard as she had hoped anything in her entire life, that he liked it.

They stopped to breathe. She thought about too fast and decided she could risk it. “I need you to do something,” she murmured.

“Anything.”

“Take off this belt.”

They separated, not far. Aloth touched her belt gingerly. He fumbled at its buckle. “I'm usually much better at this,” he muttered, flushing to his ears.

“Here.” She guided his hands. “Here.” She drew his hands out and he slid the belt free. “Here.” She put his hands on her jacket and helped him draw it down her arms. It fell away, no longer called for.

He backed up onto the mattress and propped himself up on his elbows. The resulting strain on his arms was very pleasing. “Yes?” he said calmly.

“I like looking at you,” she said.

“Come here.”

Tense with excitement, she clumsily crawled up and sat astride him. He smiled like he had expected it. She bit her lip. “Did you always want this?”

“From the day you scared three ruffians Iselmyr had antagonized. I thought you were strange, and beautiful.”

“And now?”

“My impression hasn’t changed much.” He smiled. He pushed under her, sweet contact. “What about you? When did you know you wanted this?”

“It had to be the day we went to the sanitarium and you asked me not to talk about the notes you’d destroyed. You had an answer for every other subject…but I could have hurt you that day. It made me want to protect you…strange, and handsome. If I hated you for being Leaden Key it was only because I liked you when you were just Aloth.”

“Truly? That never occurred to me.”

She planted her hands at his sides and leaned over. “We need to do it all over again. Nobody else in the way. Getting to know each other. Getting to want each other.”

“Under the present circumstances, do you wish to start with the latter?”

“Hm. You haven’t finished undressing me.”

“Ah. I am remiss.”

Clothes. Under. She would have to trade the armor layer for something fancy. Oh, she had time, she had all the time in the world to do this right. Aloth knew everything about history. She could show him tomorrow, too.

*

“I usually sleep alone.”

Aloth felt a sting of pity. “Me too,” he said accurately.

“There’s room here,” Vailond whispered. “Just don’t be surprised if I kick you.”

She didn’t. Vailond’s mattress was straw, her sheets rough…she had no use for frills, and he knew that. He slept as best he could and woke when pre-dawn nosed at the little windows.

He looked at her writing desk. There was no one and nothing on this ship he envied more than Vailond for that desk.

How had Edér found the crumpled letter? And why had Vailond responded with open affection? And how, and why, had everything since then happened?

He wrote.

*

_Cherished Vailond,_

_It seems that every milestone in our lives hurts you. Please believe my sincerity when I say that I would happily give you a hundred better ones._

_Milestones in our lives. Ours, jointly. Is that truly what you desire? Perhaps it is too early for that question. Between what is too early and what is too late I have almost lost track of the possible. I must cling to the present, or else be lost between despair and a brightness that humbles my heart._

_The present._

_Where you love me._

_All things are possible._

_I want you to have this message, should matters external or otherwise part us again. Should you ever doubt that there has been a time and a place where I cannot and do not wish to resist your wishes. This moment has occurred, and you can return to it whenever you wish._

_Perhaps you could call it a milestone in our lives._

_In deep affection,_

_Aloth Corfiser, at your service_

He left it on the bed by her tousled red hair, and went out into the windy open.

*

* * *

Maia got a commendation for her work. Shiny badge and everything. Even with that suspicious hiccup at the end, everyone recognized that she had advanced Rauataian interests throughout the Deadfire. The Captain of the _Defiant_ had been a perfect patsy, said some, snickering behind their hands. Maia had manipulated her into place, and now, with Vailia disgraced, with the Huana spread beyond their means, the Royal Deadfire Company could pounce.

This was wishful thinking. Maia didn’t dignify them with conversation. The Captain of the _Defiant_ had advanced interests that got results along the straightest line of bearing. Maia’s best work was when she’d dragged Rauataian interests onto that line, but she had never controlled Vail’s attention. Vail was too simple to be a fool.

Not Vail. Vailond. Captain Vailond Dugauer, sovereign of the deeps. Who would ever have guessed from that elf who didn’t know how to spell “chain of command”? That familiarity was gone.

“Ishi,” she said. “You think she’s ever going to find Tyrhos?” And, lower, “Do you think she’s going to lose everyone else when the job’s done?” The command crew loved her, but they had all had something in common at the time. Vailia, gone, Rauatai, gone, and there was no way the Príncipi would stay for long. A ship could get lonely when you weren’t looking. The only thing to do was the next task. Like always.

Ishi clucked and hopped down to start pecking at Maia’s pocket.

“Of course she teaches you that move,” grumbled Maia, grinning. “Come on, let’s get something to eat that isn’t my pants.” She had a job out there. Maybe, given time, she could talk to Vail again. Letters, maybe. Her superiors would go wild, but Maia knew every secret code: Vailond said exactly what she was thinking, that was all. In the meantime: clear skies and a following wind, and Ishi would not allow her to live in the past. Maia really hoped Tyrhos could disallow the same.

*

* * *

Pallegina sat through the third incredibly elaborate plan for capitalizing on her status as the Watcher’s friend. With Ukaizo settled, this room full of Vailian strategists seemed to believe Vail would be open to renegotiating…well, everything.

Not Vail. Vailond. Captain Vailond Dugauer, gadfly to ducs and gods alike.

“I tell you,” said Pallegina, “you are overthinking. When she is hungry, she eats. When she is angry, she shoots. When she notices subtlety, she also shoots.” And when she faced a representative of the country she had relegated to the dust? How would she react to Pallegina now?

“Gentlemen! Please! We have had a message from Captain Dugauer herself!”

Pallegina froze, unable even to turn to face the nobleman.

“Hm,” he said, clearly reading something, and “Per complanca…”

“So tell us! Has she called for our brave paladin?”

“She says,” said the reader, “that Pallegina is worth any twenty of our effete cipher assassins, that Pallegina is not invited back to her crew, and that if Pallegina’s career is not smiled upon by all five suns in the future there will be consequences against our trade and wellbeing.”

That was Vailond all over, except “effete” had to be Aloth. She wondered whether he had ever closed that circuit. Here it was: Vailond doing her level best for her crew, in this case telling Pallegina’s superiors that there was no point forcing her back to the flashpoint.

Pallegina didn’t realize she was laughing until the tear hit her cheek.

If the wishful thinking ever cleared out of this room, Pallegina could go. As demanded by the hero of Ukaizo. The ducs themselves had promised her an assignment of her choice. The world, open to her. The mainland, cities, opportunities—enough for her ambition and enough to heal wounds. Maybe she could look up Giacolo, whose calling was suddenly the prime question of kithkind. An experienced animancy-hunter might do a great deal of good organizing animancers toward the goal of saving Eora’s souls, Giacolo included. Maybe Pallegina didn’t have a lot just at that moment, but she had a future. That helped a lot.

*

* * *

Serafen worked his ass off on the _Soheina_ , and she treated him right. The vessel had apparently been Huana in construction and it was a marvel of engineering, which made it showy and impractical for most things, but damned if she couldn’t ride a wave like a queen on the seaways. The freed slaves who composed the crew never saw him as a mascot; they saw him as a highly skilled cipher who knew everything about keeping a ship running trim. When the captain turned down his suggested improvements there was always a good reason. He collected chits for grog on shore leave, and like any sensible kith he gambled for them with the crew. He never won enough for them to ban ciphers from the running. He was sneaky, not stupid. In the mess he told tactically exaggerated stories of his previous adventures on the Deadfire. Of a million things.

Of Vail.

There was just one story he didn’t tell, though the crew clamored to hear. Wasn’t it enough to brag about her opening conversations with a crossbow? Or strolling toward a dragon’s gullet grasping nothing more than a knife and an extreme degree of trust in her companions? Or interrupting a visiting Vailian duc midsentence when she heard the grog was free at the dockside watering hole? He had a lot of stories like that. There was just one story he didn’t tell about Va—not Vail. Lass. Pretty, mad, thrilling lass. Sometimes he thought the wind and waves remembered the excesses they had passed, but when he turned around they acted innocent, and there was a new horizon ahead.

*

* * *

Vailond was at her writing desk, working on messages for the craftsmen of Dyrford, when Tekēhu knocked. She let him in and smiled. “How are you? Things have been intense.”

“To stay busy is to feel alive,” he said. “If I live any more I will strain something, I say.”

She reached out. He eyed it in obvious surprise, but took it in his big cool hand and listened. “I’m sorry we had to rush Ukaizo,” she said. “I was in a hurry by that point.”

“Over one little world-wracking god? Ekera, surely you must be used to them by now.” His black eyes sparkled. “By my own ink,” he said. “It has been an honor.” He let go. “I fear that we must part ways soon.”

“I thought so. Did you get what you wanted from the Ukaizo machine?”

“The rebirth of watershaping? Perhaps the mercy of the bound dragon? I have not forgotten his plight, I have not forgotten that you sealed it to protect my people…and I will not forget that if the ancient ways grant us the watershaping power we need, my first responsibility is to him. Yes. I must see that my people receive this wisdom…and then, perhaps honorable retirement and only beautiful things for the remainder of my days.”

Vailond smiled. “I’m sorry. You’re being favored of the gods again, and it’s my fault.”

“It is a purpose. Perhaps I tear down more old institutions as we build this new one.”

“Come with me to Maje?”

“I must know this wolf of yours. It would be my pleasure.”

“He loves fish. Is that a problem?”

“As long as he doesn’t slaver for big ones.”

*

* * *

“We’ll get to Neketaka as soon as we can,” said Vailond.

Edér, having done something official to a length of rope, now sat on its coils and smoked pensively. He looked up and his eyes crinkled. “We don’t have to rush,” he said. “Whatever it takes to get Tyrhos back, we’ll do. Bearn’ll still be there. Barring additional death cults.” He squinted thoughtfully at the horizon. “All right, maybe there is a rush.” He smiled at her. “But Tyrhos is waiting for you. I’ve done my best by you but I’m no wolf.”

“You’re hairy enough,” Vailond said archly. “Lacking in the fang department.”

“You’ll hurt a man’s pride, talking like that.”

“Bring Baern to Caed Nua. Give me a couple months’ head start to fix up the place.”

He lowered his pipe. He gave her a thoughtful blue look. “You still planning on that?”

“Caed Nua? Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The sea’s had you, Vail. I don’t know that it gives up easily.”

Vailond shivered. “You know…Serafen said the same thing.”

“Doesn’t make it less true. I think. It’s all right. You can come visit where me and Bearn settle down. I could try farming, maybe it’d stick.”

“Oh, you’ll be hip-deep in do-gooding before I make it back to the ship. You’ll be good for him.”

He drew his pipe, calmer now. “How do you know that?”

“Well, see how I turned out.”

Edér laughed long and loud. Vailond joined him without a problem.

*

* * *

Xoti’s lamp no longer burned bright enough to stand out in sunlight. Maybe that was a good thing. The priestess rounded the coils of ropes. “You’re talking about leaving,” she said, almost shyly. “Everybody on this ship is.”

“I can leave any time I want,” Vailond said, a little annoyed at everyone’s assumptions.

“But someday you’ll go back, if only for a while, and all we’ll have is tall tales. You and me, Edér, we’ll have to keep the story alive.”

“And for once I can’t exaggerate any crazier than it really was.” He smiled at her. “There’ll be some great reenactments when we run into each other.”

“Temple at Neketaka. You’ll visit in between going to see Caed Nua, won’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Is the luminous adra there enough to help you unload?” said Vailond.

“I did. I feel light,” said Xoti. “I feel so strange. My god has fallen again. I know better than to assume that means he’s dead.”

“And you will be faithful.”

Xoti grinned. “Always have been.”

“You talk about the temple, but you know you are welcome to Caed Nua, with or without escort.” Edér scoffed, grinning. “We don’t have luminous adra but we’ve got a pretty good town awaiting fixing.”

“My call is in the Deadfire. I will visit on holidays, obviously.”

“You know you were the first non-career-sailor to show me around the Deadfire? An outsider. I would’ve been lost without you.”

Xoti shook her lamp. “Guiding,” she said cheerfully. “We did good together, didn’t we?”

“More than we could’ve done apart.”

“Yeah.” Xoti smiled. “I like that.”

*

* * *

Vailond dashed across the deck and hurled herself on Aloth, nearly taking them both over the gunwale. Aloth summoned a wall of force to keep them both away from the edge. “Vail—!”

“I do love you.” She laughed, squeezing his ribcage. “What do you think of that?”

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” he said levelly, twisting to better flatten her against his chest.

She kept her arms around him. “Will you come with me to Caed Nua?”

“Just try keeping me away.”

“I’m glad.” She sobered. “What if I decided to sail around a little first?”

His gaze cut across to her cabin’s door. “Can you get a better mattress?”

Her mouth curved. “Is that your only problem?”

“Where you go, I am happy to follow. There are…so many things that need setting right. I will go where you judge the need sorest.”

“We’ve lost so much time.”

“History, Vail, and it is only lost if we fail to draw perspective from it. Let us take our lessons and write the next page.”

*

* * *

They sailed in haste to Port Maje. Vailond split up her party. True, they were strangers to her quarry, but he would understand seeing people who didn’t want to kill him.

To understand her, in a “don’t try to kill her this time” way.

Everyone stared in Port Maje. Vailond was ushered into the Governor’s office without a word of complaint.

“The gray ghost?” he said loudly. “It hunts among our sheep. There is a reward for its pelt.”

“Oh,” said Vailond. “That stops. Right now.”

“Who are you to tell us—”

“I’m taking him away. You’ll never have to see him again. And I’ll save you the reward money.”

Clario looked stunned. “Truly?”

“Really and truly. Where does it lair? Do you know?”

“Every time we think we have found it, the ghost has already moved on. Of late it has attacked our pastures from the southeast.”

“Then we’re going southeast.” Vailond turned. “Dinner first. We’ll be setting out at sunset. If he’s used to the wild that’s when he’ll be up.”

So after dinner Vailond’s friends walked out to the edge of the forest and lit lamps. Xoti just coaxed hers to greater light somehow. Vailond was afraid to view the details from a Watcher’s eyes. Regardless, they came to the edge and they circled up.

“Tyrhos!” yelled Vailond. Then, after a sheepish glance back at her companions, she threw her head back and howled.

Nothing. She walked to the edges of perception in the forest and howled again. “Tyrhos! —Spread out. Tell me if you find droppings,” and she described what Tyrhos usually shat. “Or a mostly eaten animal.”

“Tasteful,” Xoti said doubtfully.

“It’s what a living thing leaves behind,” said Vailond. “Xoti, he may have seen you in the town before.” She dipped into her shirt for a kerchief. “He may recognize this.”

Aloth and Tekēhu waited their turn. “I’m not certain what we can do,” Aloth said hesitantly.

Vailond pulled out her knife and pulled up her tunic. “Undress me.”

_“What?”_

He must have seen her eyes’ amusement. “Cut something from my undershirt. Tyrhos should know it.”

“Vailond, out in front of…”

“It helps Tyrhos.”

He reached for her and paused, fingertips brushing her undershirt. It was lacy there, where nobody could see. And it would surely smell of her body. Aloth brought the knife and started cutting a strip free. She looked into his eyes, and he into hers, with the knife between them.

She wished they were elsewhere. Alone. More so every moment. It was foolish, to be so crazy about someone so soon. Maybe she really was a fool.

Still, he cut his scrap of warm lace and returned her knife. “Good hunting,” he said, a little breathily. She smiled at him and thought about getting some really cheap clothes for him to cut off in the future. A very near future.

Then everyone split. They fanned into the forest. Vailond started yelling.

Edér laughed as they picked their way through the leafy underbrush. “He’s got it bad.”

Vailond smiled. “Not just him.”

“Is he what you wanted?”

“I didn’t have the creativity to look for him. I figured that if he was that much better than me…” Vailond laughed. “Oh, Tyrhos! Tyrhos?”

“He always admired you. In a slightly terrified way. It damn near killed him, telling you about the Leaden Key.” The breaking point of their original friendly relationship, the reason they hadn’t kept in touch. “I always wondered why he did it. He could live a lie…that was the first time he chose not to. And it was because of you. And he almost didn’t, because of you.”

“I don’t think I loved him,” she said. “He just kept showing up, saving my life or needing saving. That grows on a girl, you know?”

“Too well.”

“Tyrhos! Thank you for understanding. It means a lot.”

“I’m happy for you.”

That’s when a white streak appeared between trees. Closer it was gray sprinkled with white, closer it had a muzzle and four paws, closer and Vailond hurled herself at Tyrhos only to have him bear her to the ground.

Well, she would either lose her face or get her friend back. A worthwhile risk.

Tyrhos licked. He licked furiously. He smelled her neck, he leaned into her petting on one side, he licked her face.

“Tyrhos,” she whispered. “You’re back. Are you back?”

Tyrhos backed off of her and looked back into the forest.

“What is it?”

Three smaller gray things toddled out of the woods. Puppies, biggish but clearly young. They had faint white patterns on their flanks that had nothing to do with age, and their faces were all Tyrhos. Vailond scrambled to her knees and reached out. Tyrhos whuffed at the puppies and they bounded forward and sniffed her. There was one with one blue eye and one yellow. It attempted to paw up her chest in its eagerness to sniff her mouth. She laughed and stroked it. It had short soft fur like Tyrhos hadn’t had in years.

“Aw!” Edér was there in an instant, kneeling, coaxing a puppy onto his lap. Tyrhos sniffed Edér’s knee and didn’t otherwise object. Edér started scritching furiously. “Look at ‘em!”

“Where’s their mother, Tyrhos?” Vailond was now splitting, one hand for a puppy and the other for its father.

Tyrhos raised a paw to tap toward his puppies, then tapped over three invisible puppies, and jerked his muzzle away to the left. He did not elaborate further.

“You think she’s got three puppies too? I think it’s up to us,” said Edér, nose-booping his two. “Say, are you going to raise more than one?”

What a ridiculous thought. She was a one-dog woman, with _maybe_ room for one trainee. “No,” she said. “Are you?”

He grinned at her, puppy in each hand, exactly like this was the perfect moment and they were all spending it together. “I might, at that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s it. Vail and company have survived the events of the games and they’ve each found a next step. Will this party or any other return to Eora? That’s not an active project, but maybe Avowed will change my mind.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. This was a fun project. I really enjoyed writing the group banter and the complaints about the gods. Vailond was designed to be a direct counterpoint to my usual video game OCs…she is blunt, earthy, uneducated, single-minded to the exclusion of niceties, and, of course, pretty bad at sorting out romantic motivations. (I love you, Serafen.)
> 
> Aloth snuck up on me, he really did. The way he took POE1’s lessons to heart and started seriously thinking about the importance of kith volition and the impacts of the responsibility he’s taken on…I dunno, it made me want to hug him. Poor guy thinks too much, and the funny thing is, as Vailond learns to understand that, she picks up a little of his caution, too. Almost too much! Search your feelings, Vail!
> 
> It’s been a blast and a half. Thanks for reading, and may Magran look the other way as she passes you by.


	22. Bug correction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My chapter count is bugged so I can't get this project to mark as Complete. I will add an excerpt in the hopes of shaking the system into place. In return, have some Vailond:

The buildings started as little beehive huts and worked their way up to thatched houses and barns to yellow stone buildings. The Estate was vast, centered on an oval domed room of what Edér judged to be improbable architecture.

Crowds passed to and fro. This was a sacred place to the entire country. The place Waidwen had ascended to be the first physical embodiment of Eothas. The main hall was shaped like an egg, gilt and painted on the inside with images of…well, of Saint Waidwen. Edér wondered whether it had been that way while Waidwen was still alive. You start hosting a god, maybe you get inflated ideas of appropriate décor.

He walked to a single red tile on the floor and studied it. Everything in this room was built to purpose. Why drop a blot of color here?

“Interesting feature, isn’t it?” Edér jumped. Aloth waved at him from almost the far end of the room. “I can whisper here and you can hear me there and no one else in the room need know.”

“If I hold still enough, d’you think I’ll be able to hear what they said?”

Aloth didn’t answer. He was good like that.

But no older voices sounded. No distant people were suddenly there. No history displayed itself before his eyes. “Vail?” he said, unmoored.

And she was there. “Hey. I saw this room with Mother. The man with the shining head was just up here. Your—the—you know. Your brother. He came up through the crowd.” She was walking. He came with her, just behind her elbow, terrified to throw her off the trail by touching her.

She stopped at the dais. “He saw him here.” The image was clear in her mind. “But I can’t hear what they said.”

“I know,” Edér said glumly. “Thank you both. I guess this is where it ends. It…helped, seeing it. I just wish I’d known what could change his mind. You know? I try to come at it from that side, not that Waidwen said it, but that Woden listened. You’d think I’d know him better’n anyone, but…I don’t know what would make him give up on the Dyrwood—what would make him side with the Saint.”

“Proof that the Saint really was Eothas in flesh?” said Vailond.

“What possible proof could there be?”


End file.
